Hello anon, I want to play a game.

Now you may be asking why your penis is inside your mouth. Let's call it fortune.

Lately you've been shitposting on the catalog more than usual, presumably due to a male presence on a stream of a corporate vtuber you don't even watch or a happy little news that an indie announced. This has brought to my mind something repressed deep within you that you can't help but shove on to everyone else who, try as you might, just won't get it. I get it.

Right above you, on the table there's a phone. It's yours. You may be surprised by the fact that it's not in your hand for once in your waking life but you can rest assured it's still the one you held in one of your hand while you had your penis in the other. You're trying to lift your head to look at it but a contraption keeps you in that uncomfortable posture. I wouldn't force my way. Right on top of you, there's a giant log connected to a machinery that will gently thud the back of your head once every sixty seconds. It won't kill you, I hope. In fact, it will deliver you your wildest dream, your wildest dream to you. It will give you you.

All you need to do to escape your happy me-time is to use the phone the way you're used to. Use it to send a message through sms or discord or twitter or whatever application to your liking to someone who can check on you right at this very moment. Tell them you love them, you need them, you need to talk. It's a matter of simple feeling, one you are bound to feel once you plug out.

How do you like it, anon? Take your time, the night's still young.

Hello anon, I want to play a game.

Now you may be asking why is your penis inside your mouth. Let's call it fortune.

Lately you've been shitposting on the catalog more than usual, presumably due to a male presence on a stream of a corporate vtuber you don't even watch or a happy little news that an indie announced. This has brought to my mind something repressed deep within you that you can't help but shove on to everyone else who, try as you might, just won't get it. I get it.

Right above you, on the table there's a phone. It's yours. You may be surprised by the fact that it's not in your hand for once in your waking life but you can rest assured it's still the one you held in one of your hand while you had your penis in the other. You're trying to lift your head to look at it but a contraption keeps you in that uncomfortable posture. I wouldn't force my way. Right on top of you, there's a giant log connected to a machinery that will gently thud the back of your head once every sixty seconds. It won't kill you, I hope. In fact, it will deliver you your wildest dream, your wildest dream to you. It will give you you.

All you need to do to escape your happy me-time is to use the phone the way you're used to. Use it to send a message through sms or discord or twitter or whatever application to your liking to someone who can check on you right at this very moment. Tell them you love them, you need them, you need to talk. It's a matter of simple feeling, one you are bound to feel once you plug out.

How do you like it, anon? Take your time, the night's still young.