Cheer up, Anon!

[a]Nat and [a]Dawn

Content warning for depictions of: trauma, self-loathing, suicidal ideation, mentioned self-harm, BPD, memory loss, dissociation, transphobia, homophobia, dysphoria, psychosis, sanism.

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++ OTAKUCLASM PERSONAL DISSOCIATION TORRENT ++

=STREAMING ON THE BLOCKCHAIN NOW AND FOREVER!=

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M: "Morning anon!"

M: "Did you have a good night?"

Enabling moelogic suite NOUMENAUT LEECHGENDER VERMINSMUT.yfu

M: "Oh, more bad dreams? I'm sorry to hear :("

Deleting all skin layers and flesh-grafted organs (reverting to BwO-OwO ur-sissified self-projected avatar, physicality minus)

M: "I wish I could be with you in those so I could fight the monsters off, but I'm a magical girl and transformation sequences aren't real"

M: "Maybe one day though!"

M: "There's still some surprise left in the world, right?"

THE DATE IS MARCH 31 2021. TIME IS, AS ALWAYS, SPHINX RIDDLE.

M: "Have you decided on a name yet?"

M: "Given mine maybe Ak-m- could be cute! Or with some sparkly symbols, like ⚸☭~⋆Ak♥m♥⋆~.•° that still bypass the Copyright Archon H☾RAI☽S His Sublunarity? Oh! Or maybe

NEW VPNs FROM THE BLESSED TRINITY OF APPLE-MICROSOFT-AMAZON NEVER PIRATE ALWAYS PIRATE OUR EXCLUSIVE 3+n ONE HAMMER WITH FACEREACT VTUBER REDROOM LIVESTREAM DEATHDRIVE NFT: Message of the Day.

M: "you could use something from the 9th Unicode Circle? I once tried to copy-paste from down there but the wind was biting at me too much and the wormsymbols had already eaten much of my left leg so I had to turn back. I lost a lot of blood :/"

NOW PLAYING: Larvae of My Life - If this is what your obsession feels like then I hope Axsys swallows you whole and grinds up the bones [Lo-fi] [Hauntophonics] [Real Ghost Noises] [Traumacore] [Ego Death] [Selfnull] {4min13sec}

M: "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to worry you!!!!11!1!!! Jeez, for someone who pretends to be so aloof you sure are sappy, hehehe."

M: "Oh, yeah no worries if none of those work for you ofc! I just know who you keep at the top of your kinlist :3c"

M: "Mhmmmmmmm. At least we can be any anime girls we want online, I guess."

M: "No you really shouldn't keep going back to that site! It's bad for you!"

M: "I know it's the first imageboard you found but they post such bad things there and it's not healthy to see so much text degrading our identity, even if it's what you're used to :<"

[STREAMING:Did you know that in 2021 there was no sun? It's true! A patent troll was filed by the Musk-Thiel Hivemind that classified all ancestral light-based photonic incineration waves as property of Tesla and the Sun was dragged out of the sky by H☾RAI☽S Himself, colliding into the moon and sending the shards down to impale the non-believers who kept seeing the light! That year was reset because it wasn't profitable enough to eat the corpses of.]

M: "You can find the shitposts elsewhere seriously it's not that important"

M: "One of those memeplex phantoms should have a curated list, right? They always hook to specific websites and copy the right data out. I think? Is that what those suckers and beaks are for?"

M: "I've had nice experiences with them!!!!!!!11 They don't really care about non-noosphere life all that much but they're relaxing to be around. They make nice sounds. Like whale calls. The synesthesia tastes like death metal."

M: "Shut up you'd download that much yuri if you had the same connectivity organs I've got. The benefits of being a digital alter: I don't need to deal with biology-hardware interfacing lagtime in order to be a Massive Dyke B)"

[STREAMING:top 10 beats to make you feel like an edgy yandere craving the arrival of your madoka magica plushy while rolling in bed (with a knife) / THE SECRETS OF HOBOKEN-ATLANTEAN THALASSOMEMETIC XENOMA POLITICS: THE PARASITE IDEOLOGY / Department of Defense has announced an increase in meat-mulchers being sent to the New York Technognostic Soviet borderzone in hopes that it can be dragged into True Chronology by the end of this / Every Time Vriska Serket Insulted Me On The PATH And Spilled Coffee On My Purse / did you know that stephen king was once tf'd into a car? tesla incorporated]

M: "Oh? L#1N?"

M: "I don't really know. Zhe's always been the most elusive out of all of us, hasn't zhe?"

M: "Doesn't zhe have partial control over your body or smthn :? You could ask zher to leave notes maybe"

M: "Ah that's fair. I just want zher to feel better, y'know :/"

M: "I understand why zhe'd be like that but I don't think it's good to isolate yourself that way! It really isn't!!!"

M: "I know getting told we aren't real hurts but hiding from everyone who cares for you isn't going to help!!!!!!1 It doesn't matter when that's how all the world will treat us anyways!!!!!"

M: "Guh, I'm sorry but it's just. So hard not being able to HELP people. Why is this what zhe has to do of all things!11111!!1"

M: "... Yeah. I know. But I can't feel happy if zhe isn't. Or you aren't."

M: "The world hates us so we have to stick together this way, y'know? Even if finding anyone else who understands is impossible, I think. Or cares"

[STREAMING:Surface Toronto is glassed. A gentrification bomb went off at the core and the shockwaves blasted the buildings into highrise impact waves, shear curves of plexiglass and steel and metamaterial that scrape towards the stars and fall in their flanking curves towards the ground. In the day they burn with a thousand dazzling simulacra of the sun beaming off their windows and at night they glow with simmering halogens. The heat torched the grass. The only thing to cross the desert is the Duster, set to check any remaining cables, ensure their connectivity is solid, and build new ones to replace everything that had been bulldozed. They call it a Duster from how its feathers seem to brush the land with a detached softness. When new wires are attached they rise through the windows, slant towards the hypocenter (rubber inking lines over the sun's rays as they ascend), and attach to the wooden pylon sticking out the center like a triumphant javelin (formerly owned by Apple-Microsoft-Amazon, then sabotaged by Alphabet Enochiarch, then conquered by the True Zuckerbergian Platform-in-Exile, then bought out by Apple-Microsoft-Amazon [bless the Trinity] again). For as long as the wires rise nothing else matters, because Surface Toronto was not meant to be lived by people, it was meant to be lived by images ("Future City," Frederic Jameson, 2003), and if human skin and breath touched the metal it would need to be incinerated and built again to remove the fervent stains.]

M: "But wouldn't it be bad I can't help anyone?"

M: "We're microscopic in a community that's already microscopic, I should be able to help because no one else will and because I can! That just makes sense!"

M: "No this isn't even about L#1N or you, this is about EVERYONE!!1!!!!!"

M: "I try to make better lives for people whenever I can!"

M: "Nobody can have transformation sequences so instead I make costumes, I keygen hormones, I rip genders out of the non-fungible identity pipeline and overclock my brain until burnout hits and I have to switch to a backup! I even let the wormsymbols ingest my leg because they were starving even if I didn't have any digiskin left as a backup"

M: "There's no point if I can't do that!"

M: "I'll just be a drain!"

M: "I may as well delete myself so everyone else has one less burden to share!"

M: "You already deal with so much, you don't need me!"

M: "No that DOESN'T MATTER, I'm already hurting you by dropping so much on you that you can't handle! If I were stable I'd be able to hold it in but no, I can't, so instead here I'm venting about it like an idiot! And I'm even self-aware about you being unable to give support because I'm so worthless that I'm still willing to drag you down with me!"

M: "No I don't care that I'm blowing up I just need to HELP goddammit!1!!!!11!!1111111111111111"

M: "It's all I'm good for1!"

NOW PLAYING: SissY MicroinsurgencY HYpostate - EverYthing You Never Wish You Knew ft. stairglomp prod. The Real Beelzebub Her Imperious [Gorebreak] [Ego Death Metal] [Weaponized Audiohazard] [Banned in 20 corprostates for implecting temporophoniac t-dérive security incursions into the physical realm] {-3min27sec}

M: "no, you don't need to console me"

M: "I already flubbed my chance to deserve it"

M: "I had a breakdown over events I willingly put myself through and now I'm dumping it on you when you've never done anything to anyone"

M: "I'm a bad person"

M: "no, just sign off, I won't do you any good here. you should hate me for this. just take your leave"

M: "it's np"

M: "I can vanish fine"

[STREAMING:In the Toronto Subterranean Arcology you are never allowed to be real. The requirements for reality are that you are A: outwardly human B: inwardly human C: hold no resentment for humanity D: never wish for anything better than humanity E: never wish for anything worse than humanity. Additional are strictures F and G, which dictate that, ideally, you should never have a problem modifying yourself if it makes your self more palatable to others and if it makes yourself more attractive to potential buyers. Even if you can't put on an office uniform it's fine, because you can always be normal in other ways, like starving on the street or being stretched betweens gear teeth or staring at the sun until your pupils melt.

You can't be human because you killed your humanity.

You were mugged in an alley and now you can't relate to anyone anymore (it was your fault your humanity died, after all you were asking for it wearing that faggish of an outfit, you should've taken better care of it, what kind of monster do you want to be?) and you run home crying because there's no one left to talk about what happened to you and the streetlights offer no words in the dark but their endless repeated flickering. It didn't go like that, but you can't remember, because you pushed it out of your memory (Code A.12 of Being Human: losing your self is a sin) and now what's left is a raw gap that melts your hands when you touch it and turns you into a quivering spastic mess that collapses to the floor in pulpitating bullet-point forest fires that lance every nerve and stab steaming-hot dissociation up your arms. Every time you tried to kill yourself you had to get your selves to talk you out of it because you're so pathetic you had to split your mind in three to assemble an artificial sense of self-worth.

Would it be a sin to say you didn't want to be human? Would it be a sin to say you hate these organs? Would it be a sin to never want to be whole again? Would it be a sin to be happier broken? Father Above could you strike me down before I lose myself to something I'm terrified of being? Before I reject Your Skin? Am I psychotic for seeing angels in my field of view?

And all you get on twitter is the desire to take a knife to yourself again.

There is nothing left of the world because, in the aftermath of the global ontology bombing, the surface has been reduced to spent dollars and brushed-away corpses, and the sky is too far to reach, the ocean walled by hundreds of anti-chthonic blast shield mountains, and the underground a sparkling terrain of televised corporate glitz. You have every chance to succumb, and, as you curl up in your bed with covers overhead and lights off and white noise machine on and Disintegration Loops muffling your hearing as you tremor over and over from withdrawal's sensory dissection, you remember that you'll never have a home here.

When you wake up under the fake dawn's halogen smile you hope the thoughts won't repeat.]

M: "but I don't think there's any point even then"

M: "I mean, so what if they win from our death? it doesn't matter if they're happier from us being gone. it won't matter to us. neither will the deadname in the obituary. we won't be there to hurt from it. no one else's emotions should influence ours, right?"

M: "sorry anon but I can't ever view things that way. I'm glad it works for you but if I have to spend all my life in pain hoping I'll have the briefest relieve from it I'd rather kill myself at the start."

M: "..."

M: "Do you promise?"

[STREAMING:03/31/2021 slimesGrip: @TheBodyLover1601 i'm not irony poisoned i'm psychotic

one is for people who think they're too cool to care, the other is for people who care so much that they don't know how to handle it]

M: "You don't have to plummet with me if you don't want to. No one is forcing you to. You should take the chance to be human while you can."

[STREAMING:Every trans person knows that transformation sequences aren't real. You can't become a magical girl, you can't twirl into the sky and spark new constellations above the corpses of the old, you can't revolutionize the world. You're a tranny so you'll be swept to the side like flecks of newsprint brushed into the cracks of a comatose alley. But we love those comatose alleys, don't we? It's where we get the most freedom to be garbage.]

M: "Fiiiiiiiine, if that's how persistent you'll be :P"

M: "Got a text from L#1N saying that zhe'll be back in a couple of mins, so. I guess that was all for nothing, wasn't it?"

M: "Guh."

M: "Love being borderline in a fuckworld."

M: "No shut up that isn't why I chose that kin, don't slander me right after we both have mental breakdowns >:Y"

M: "You're the one who puts on komm susser tod all the time!"

[STREAMING:Siphonophore genders can remember every one their identities they have, had, and ever will have. They clutch these microselves like pearls in the dark, glittering with the light of a soft, pastel heaven when nothing else will. Blood genders are said to be so powerful that they can exude every one of their macrophages as attack genders. You, on the other hand,]

M: "Maybe it was obvious all along what your possible new name could be >:3c"

M: "Sheesh, okay okay I'll lay off on it, bluhhhhhhh >:P"

M: "But you'll have to confront your true self eventually, hehe"

M: "...tbh that is the nice part about being here, isn't?"

M: "even if everyone hates it we don't have to be real"

[STREAMING:Vermicommunism microinsurgency cells spark a meat bombing in the Washington Godhead Ontopolis, 10 Noumenautics Reports That Will Make You Want To Hide In Your Soul Bunker, the Ouroboros' eight and final

STREAM FUNCTIONALITY DISABLED.