Nazi Germany
Zubeer Adolf Hipster -Nazi Monkoid Rights Activist
- Joined
- Aug 15, 2024
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There’s nothing quite like waking up and not knowing which version of yourself you’re going to get in the mirror today. I’m basically a walking, breathing Jekyll and Hyde of body image.
The next minute, I’m that toaster oven that forgot to toast bread correctly, just a misshapen hunk of metal nobody knows what to do with. I swear the mirror is gaslighting me, showing me two versions of myself, and neither of them feels like they belong in the same body. It’s gotten so bad that I started having conversations with both sides. I've started hosting internal TED talks between my two facial hemispheres. Lefty's up there spewing motivational quotes that would make Tony Robbins weep with pride: Carpe that diem, you magnificent beast!" Meanwhile, Righty's in the back heckling like a nihilistic theater critic: Perhaps consider a career as a professional hermit? I hear caves are lovely this time of year. The mirror, that duplicitous glass charlatan, has become my personal gaslighter. It's serving up a facial feast of cognitive dissonance with a side of what even is objective reality anymore? I'm essentially living in a one-man production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide-From-All-Reflective-Surfaces. I’m not sure who to trust anymore
every time I turn my head, I switch personalities. But you know what? I could start charging people to see the two extremes of human existence.Maybe my body dysmorphia is onto something—it’s showing me that I contain multitudes. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s all a cruel joke, and I’m the punchline. Either way, the mirror is winning. @BigJimsWornOutTires Imagine playing Russian roulette with your personality every time you wake up. Today's flavor? We've got CEO-meets-Socrates on deck, spitting existential fire while filing quarterly reports in crayon. Three hours later? Boom - we're a sentient pile of anxiety wearing a trench coat, pretending to know how groceries work. Left brain's out here planning world domination while simultaneously calculating the exact mathematical probability of embarrassing myself at the muhhh public zone. He's got spreadsheets for his spreadsheets, "Listen here, you absolute specimen of potential," he whispers, "we're gonna revolutionize existence itself, right after we organize these paperclips by their emotional aura." Meanwhile, right brain's sprawled on a beanbag, contemplating whether clouds feel lonely and if fish get thirsty. This dude's living in a dimension where time is measured in naps and success is rated by how many random facts about medieval spoons you can drop into casual conversation. "Maybe we should become a professional pillow tester," he muses, while trying to teach squirrels about cryptocurrency. The internal dialogue's gotten wild. One half's drafting a 12-step plan to achieve enlightenment through aggressive productivity, complete with pie charts and citations.
Sometimes I catch myself hosting debate club between these two while standing in the cereal aisle for 45 minutes. Left side's analyzing the fiber content like it's ancient scripture, right side's picking boxes based on which mascot looks most trustworthy. The compromise? Buy both and eat them simultaneously to achieve perfect chaos. What's reality anymore when you're simultaneously the most put-together disaster and the most chaotic success story? One moment I'm explaining theoretical physics to my houseplants, the next I'm googling "how to human for beginners" while wearing my shoes on the wrong feet intentionally because it "feels more authentic." Maybe there's genius in this madness. Could probably start a philosophy school where every lesson contradicts itself and still somehow makes perfect sense. Or maybe I'm just the universe's favorite social experiment - a consciousness split between "could probably run NASA" and "shouldn't be trusted with scissors."
Either way, catch me living this double-feature life, switching between "writing a thesis on the socioeconomic impact of breakfast foods" and "forgot how spoons work again" faster than you can say "dissociative comedy hour."
elysianfields.se
The next minute, I’m that toaster oven that forgot to toast bread correctly, just a misshapen hunk of metal nobody knows what to do with. I swear the mirror is gaslighting me, showing me two versions of myself, and neither of them feels like they belong in the same body. It’s gotten so bad that I started having conversations with both sides. I've started hosting internal TED talks between my two facial hemispheres. Lefty's up there spewing motivational quotes that would make Tony Robbins weep with pride: Carpe that diem, you magnificent beast!" Meanwhile, Righty's in the back heckling like a nihilistic theater critic: Perhaps consider a career as a professional hermit? I hear caves are lovely this time of year. The mirror, that duplicitous glass charlatan, has become my personal gaslighter. It's serving up a facial feast of cognitive dissonance with a side of what even is objective reality anymore? I'm essentially living in a one-man production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide-From-All-Reflective-Surfaces. I’m not sure who to trust anymore
every time I turn my head, I switch personalities. But you know what? I could start charging people to see the two extremes of human existence.Maybe my body dysmorphia is onto something—it’s showing me that I contain multitudes. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s all a cruel joke, and I’m the punchline. Either way, the mirror is winning. @BigJimsWornOutTires Imagine playing Russian roulette with your personality every time you wake up. Today's flavor? We've got CEO-meets-Socrates on deck, spitting existential fire while filing quarterly reports in crayon. Three hours later? Boom - we're a sentient pile of anxiety wearing a trench coat, pretending to know how groceries work. Left brain's out here planning world domination while simultaneously calculating the exact mathematical probability of embarrassing myself at the muhhh public zone. He's got spreadsheets for his spreadsheets, "Listen here, you absolute specimen of potential," he whispers, "we're gonna revolutionize existence itself, right after we organize these paperclips by their emotional aura." Meanwhile, right brain's sprawled on a beanbag, contemplating whether clouds feel lonely and if fish get thirsty. This dude's living in a dimension where time is measured in naps and success is rated by how many random facts about medieval spoons you can drop into casual conversation. "Maybe we should become a professional pillow tester," he muses, while trying to teach squirrels about cryptocurrency. The internal dialogue's gotten wild. One half's drafting a 12-step plan to achieve enlightenment through aggressive productivity, complete with pie charts and citations.Sometimes I catch myself hosting debate club between these two while standing in the cereal aisle for 45 minutes. Left side's analyzing the fiber content like it's ancient scripture, right side's picking boxes based on which mascot looks most trustworthy. The compromise? Buy both and eat them simultaneously to achieve perfect chaos. What's reality anymore when you're simultaneously the most put-together disaster and the most chaotic success story? One moment I'm explaining theoretical physics to my houseplants, the next I'm googling "how to human for beginners" while wearing my shoes on the wrong feet intentionally because it "feels more authentic." Maybe there's genius in this madness. Could probably start a philosophy school where every lesson contradicts itself and still somehow makes perfect sense. Or maybe I'm just the universe's favorite social experiment - a consciousness split between "could probably run NASA" and "shouldn't be trusted with scissors."
Either way, catch me living this double-feature life, switching between "writing a thesis on the socioeconomic impact of breakfast foods" and "forgot how spoons work again" faster than you can say "dissociative comedy hour."
P.S. - If you see me arguing with myself about whether giraffes are just government surveillance drones while solving differential equations in the parking lotWe're having a board meeting of one.
We're having a board meeting of one.@_MVP_ @Vermilioncore @TsarTsar444 @MoggerGaston
Guide - Existence.exe Has Encountered Multiple Personalities [ERROR_SUCCESS] by SergeantAutist
Left hemisphere privileges: admin access. Security clearance: interdimensional. This fragment's calculating the precise trajectory of our collective destiny while debugged in FORTRAN. Probability matrices suggest we're simultaneously winning and failing at life. Right partition =...
elysianfields.se
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