You will never be white.

[soapbubble]

You will never be white. You have no blue eyes, you have no blond hair, you have too much melanin. You are a brown shitskin subhuman twisted by the internet and jewish psyops into a crude mockery of nature’s circus monkey.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Aryans are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to go from shitskin niggers into quartzskin aryans. Even pajeets, niggers, or spics who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. No matter how much skin bleaching cream you apply onto yourself, how expensive your blue contact lenses are, or how realistic your blond wig is, people will turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your diseased, swarthy body odor.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a gun, put it to your head, pull the trigger, and blast yourself into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a shitskin is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably indian.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

 

[looksovernt]

As a white man from kerala your post is indiaphobic

 

[ltnbrownacnecel]

As a white man from Gujrat your post is Indiaphobic

 

[soapbubble]

As a white man from kerala your post is indiaphobic

its a copypasta

i’m not even white jfl i just put this here for the skin-bleaching self-hating indians

 

[1in3]

its a copypasta

i’m not even white jfl i just put this here for the skin-bleaching self-hating indians

 

[imontheloose]

the incel one is better.

 

[ltnbrownacnecel]

skin-bleaching self-hating indians

 

[looksovernt]

its a copypasta

i’m not even white jfl i just put this here for the skin-bleaching self-hating indians

My skin is not bleached it's naturally fair

Here is kerala we are aryans so it;s natural

 

[kash Register]

You will never be white. You have no blue eyes, you have no blond hair, you have too much melanin. You are a brown shitskin subhuman twisted by the internet and jewish psyops into a crude mockery of nature’s circus monkey.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Aryans are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to go from shitskin niggers into quartzskin aryans. Even pajeets, niggers, or spics who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. No matter how much skin bleaching cream you apply onto yourself, how expensive your blue contact lenses are, or how realistic your blond wig is, people will turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your diseased, swarthy body odor.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a gun, put it to your head, pull the trigger, and blast yourself into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a shitskin is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably indian.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

but Saar we is whit

 

[dictator]

being indian is the new white anyways

 

[WhoTookVendetta]

You will never be white. You have no blue eyes, you have no blond hair, you have too much melanin. You are a brown shitskin subhuman twisted by the internet and jewish psyops into a crude mockery of nature’s circus monkey.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Aryans are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to go from shitskin niggers into quartzskin aryans. Even pajeets, niggers, or spics who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. No matter how much skin bleaching cream you apply onto yourself, how expensive your blue contact lenses are, or how realistic your blond wig is, people will turn tail and bolt the second they get a whiff of your diseased, swarthy body odor.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a gun, put it to your head, pull the trigger, and blast yourself into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a shitskin is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably indian.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

Same type of nigga to get ass raped by his dad

 

[aristocraticfool]

its a copypasta

i’m not even white jfl i just put this here for the skin-bleaching self-hating indians

Skin bleaching is an Aryan virtue

 

[soapbubble]

the incel one is better.

You will never be a real chudcel. You have no guns, you have no desire for TND, you have a girlfriend. You are a branigger man twisted by reels and irony into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back trvecels mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Chuds are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed chuds to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even larpers who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a chud. Your typing style is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a retarded newfag home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your coally, unfunny 'tok feed.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a fakecel is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably lame and gay.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

 

[imontheloose]

You will never be a real chudcel. You have no guns, you have no desire for TND, you have a girlfriend. You are a branigger man twisted by reels and irony into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back trvecels mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Chuds are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed chuds to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even larpers who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a chud. Your typing style is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a retarded newfag home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your coally, unfunny 'tok feed.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a fakecel is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably lame and gay.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

this is ur warning to never challenge me to a copypasta-off again. @Sceptical has felt the wrath.

 

[nitrocell]

rate me potential??

 

[Sceptical]

this is ur warning to never challenge me to a copypasta-off again. @Sceptical has felt the wrath.

Parasocial relationships (PSRs) are one-sided emotional bonds where a person invests time, energy, and emotion into a media figure (celebrity, influencer, or fictional character) who is unaware of their existence. These relationships often feel real and reciprocal, providing companionship, reducing loneliness, and enabling social connection, but can become unhealthy if they lead to neglect of real-life, negative self-comparison, or extreme emotional investment

 

[Wuzzdio]

What about tigermogger?

 

[imontheloose]

Parasocial relationships (PSRs) are one-sided emotional bonds where a person invests time, energy, and emotion into a media figure (celebrity, influencer, or fictional character) who is unaware of their existence. These relationships often feel real and reciprocal, providing companionship, reducing loneliness, and enabling social connection, but can become unhealthy if they lead to neglect of real-life, negative self-comparison, or extreme emotional investment
View attachment 4751761

Infinite Cum.

You sit on the toilet to jack off, but you begin to cum uncontrollably. After ten spurts you start to worry. Your hand is sticky and it reeks of semen. You desperately shove your dick into a wad of toilet paper, but that only makes your balls hurt. The cum accelerates. It’s been three minutes. You can’t stop cumming. Your bathroom floor is covered in a thin layer of baby fluid. You try to cum into the shower drain but it builds up too fast. You try the toilet. The cum is too thick to be flushed. You lock the bathroom door to prevent the cum from escaping.

The air grows hot and humid from the cum. The cum accelerates. You slip and fall in your own sperm. The cum is now six inches deep, almost as long as your still-erect semen hose. Sprawled on your back, you begin to cum all over the ceiling. Globs of the sticky white fluid begin to fall like raindrops, giving you a facial with your own cum. The cum accelerates. You struggle to stand as the force of the cum begins to propel you backwards as if you were on a bukkake themed slip-and-slide. Still on your knees, the cum is now at chin height. To avoid drowning you open the bathroom door. The deluge of man juice reminds you of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, only with cum instead of molasses. The cum accelerates. It’s been two hours.

Your children and wife scream in terror as their bodies are engulfed by the snow-white sludge. Your youngest child goes under, with viscous bubbles and muffled cries rising from the goop. You plead to God to end your suffering. The cum accelerates. You squeeze your dick to stop the cum, but it begins to leak out of your asshole instead. You let go. The force of the cum tears your urethra open, leaving only a gaping hole in your crotch that spews semen. Your body picks up speed as it slides backwards along the cum. You smash through the wall, hurtling into the sky at thirty miles an hour. From a bird’s eye view you see your house is completely white. Your neighbor calls the cops. The cum accelerates. As you continue to ascend, you spot police cars racing towards your house. The cops pull out their guns and take aim, but stray loads of cum hit them in the eyes, blinding them. The cum accelerates. You are now at an altitude of 1000 feet. The SWAT team arrives.

Military helicopters circle you. Hundreds of bullets pierce your body at once, yet you stay conscious. Your testicles have now grown into a substitute brain. The cum accelerates. It has been two days. With your body now destroyed, the cum begins to spray in all directions. You break the sound barrier. The government deploys fighter jets to chase you down, but the impact of your cum sends one plane crashing to the ground. The government decides to let you leave the earth. You feel your gonads start to burn up as you reach the edges of the atmosphere. You narrowly miss the ISS, giving it a new white paint job as you fly past. Physicists struggle to calculate your erratic trajectory. The cum accelerates. The cum begins to gravitate towards itself, forming a comet trail of semen. Astronomers begin calling you the “Cummet.” You are stuck in space forever, stripped of your body and senses, forced to endure an eternity of cumshots. Eventually, you stop thinking.