>>7695085
But you don't go outside, you don't do anything interesting. You work a retail position you hate, or don't work at all, and then you come home and overeat every day, while thinking about how you'll one day deal with that weight problem. Maybe you'll sign up to the gym in winter when you think it'll be less busy, but you'll quit after a week because you were too insecure to ask people to work in between their sets. Your parents will speak about you in sparing terms when asked, and they'll smile with a lift that doesn't quite reach their eyes, telling people that you're just "figuring yourself out", when you're already in your early-30's and going nowhere. You sit in your room at your little entry level Wacom, trying and failing to draw anime slop that you're too ashamed to show anybody but your 16 Twitter followers, half of whom are bots. There will never be a wedding for them to get invited to, they will never get those hoped for grandchildren—no, that will be purview of a sibling of a cousin. And you'll sit there and read this, and start hurrying your keyboard with your 28.2 BMI fingers already itching, ready to type about how I'm a roastie, and a whore, and how I have a vagima, and how many penises I let inside of it, and worst of all, most heinous of all the acts you've ever committed in your sad, short little life, you will never, never, ever, ever, ever pyw.