ranierean
Apricot
- Joined
- Jul 1, 2023
- Posts
- 4,175
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Imagine finally shooting up a place, doing most things right, getting your shoddy manifesto up with some cool pics to match, working up a somewhat impressive score with your lubed-up-tuned-up BCM ARs, and not just of dead random fats and blacks, mind you, but of actual people–only to then… get bagged up… and get… nothing. No extra publicity, no real discourse, no love mails–only a single schizo guy writing in for no actual reason but to talk about himself and his cult of one that he doesn’t even bother to pitch to you, really. It’s a libtarded area but the jury still decides to just execute you, almost on a random whim, with no friction–the proceedings themselves are swift basically go like the Soviet show trials because YOU ARE THAT MUCH OF A LOSER.
A mopeyer soy-er version of that would be to finally find the One and actually start believing in yourself only to then blow it in such an anticlimactic fashion that still kinda leaves you wondering if things could’ve gone differently had you done something right since your regular self-flagellation routine explains a lot but still does nothing.
A mopeyer soy-er version of that would be to finally find the One and actually start believing in yourself only to then blow it in such an anticlimactic fashion that still kinda leaves you wondering if things could’ve gone differently had you done something right since your regular self-flagellation routine explains a lot but still does nothing.
