i wish i had had the money to get the weirder blaseball merch. i have my naswa hat, but other than that i wish i had been able to afford the bomber jackets and the silly hoodies, and
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totally normal sentences i regularly say and hear at my job that definitely don't have any other possible interpretation:
I need some subs
Can you take care of my subs for me?
That station has so many subs
These subs are difficult
I don't have time for my subs
They put me in a sub station
I need to finish all of my subs
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POE needs to have better combat and also go back in time and make the beginning not the worst setup to the rest of the game ever so I'll enjoy playing it
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reylos think they’re sooo oppressed bc “everyone else is allowed to like problematic things so why aren’t we” girl nobody said you couldn’t. we just think it’s a stupid thing to like.
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you all say that you hate your past selves but in truth i think you hate the fact you embraced 'cringe' things with an absolute lack of shame. you were open. you were willing. you wanted to fall in to something that made you feel alive and then when too many people told you it was wrong or that thing got horrible and bad that shame grew in like a kudzu in the vines of your soul.
and now, in your 'old age' (you're fucking 20 not 6-fuckin'-5) you let that kudzu suffocate whatever was left and now all that stands is an untamed, unchecked garden of elitist disapproval that you've made your goal to spread to every single fucking person involved in that thing you once loved and cherished with all your heart.
now, i beg of you the question: are you actually happy? or would you rather keep pretending you are; suffocate in your misery because accepting that you were just a kid that didn't know any better and that you're wrong about your view of your past self and the things they loved to try and kill them ? to stifle that realization, that new growth?
would be too much for your shallow pride to handle?
the kudzu is thick. too thick to cut, to shave, to slice- tear- rip- break- you let it curl and crush you, suffocate the life out of you because living is an admittance of shame and admitting shame isn't something mature people do. mature people deny. they deny wrong was done and condemn those that engage with the horrible thing because they're wrong and deserve it. they die in the kudzu, become apart of it.
in front of you, a single lighter. it's within reach, practically empty, but a slight shake reveals enough fluid for just one last light. and now you have a choice:
drop the lighter. why not let the kudzu take you, become another soul caught in its throng, ready to pull another hapless soul down in with you? misery does love company, after all.
or you could light it. it's never too late to change, even if the voices of those in the kudzu around you say otherwise. the kudzu will burn, along with whatever stifled growths that suffocated under its evertight grip.
but in the charred ashes of it all, you'll be free. not cringe, not based, not basic, not fake, not whatever-other-fuckoff-lingo there is.
you'll be free.
you'll be you, and you'll be free.
but it's your choice.
i just hope you'll make the right one.
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