TYB
He's just doing his doubt and despair song and dance in his little pointy retard shoes.
Ok, then dance for me fucktard while grind the organ.
Yeah, seems like the shills are jumping on it for a chance to create moar fake and gay.
In the filter, scamtard.
Not any moar.
Tomorrow I'm going to touch the digits.
Now IP hop some moar and spout some useless platitudes shrouded in doubt. Faggot.
So do you, retard. The difference between you and I is I don't try to force doubt and despair on others, though I do understand that's what you're paid for.
Paid for. Thus a creature with a master.
Not as embarassing as having to IP hop. Don't like getting you's from me? Sucks when the hunter becomes the hunted, doesn't it? And you have no one to blame but yourself. What was it that you said to me once? That you were my harrow? Think mirror. I am your reckoning.
No, God is with me. You are the one crumbling, scrabbling, striving to maintain relevancy.
Try to touch them tomorrow. May not work. Sleep is calling.
Turns out sleep is fleeting tonight. There's an electricity in the air.
It's like watching special ed students box with clown gloves on.
The mimic desperately wants to be someone else. Poor bastard.
Eat shit, bitchboi. Now cry.
I should watch Faux for shits and giggles. Haven't watched it at this time for a while now. Ah, it's the WeeMan and Lips hour; acceptable. At least it's not the Neo-con Kilmud and Dooshy hour. I wonder if Kilmud's greedy little weasel brian will ever be able to grasp how certain elements of a spiritual battle are being fought online. The little rat bastard. It's not all logic, that's for damn sure.
Can you fucking read, dipshit? Scroll up. In the meantime, how 'bout you, ya know, get the fuck in my filter, loser.
All damn day, no lie. All fucking day today.
Ah, yes, curb my vulgarity. Will do.
Replied before I filtered. You want to know what I think? I think you're paid to enforce certain behavior. I think that if a certain spark arises that threatens your ability to control, that you're required to stamp it out by any means necessary. On other platforms you can, easily, but here you can't. I point out the holes in the propaganda, I mock the shills for posting the propaganda, and whenever I start to do that you pop your head up. Strange coincidence, no? You love me like an abuser loving its victim and that is not love, that is gaslighting.
Try wargaming miniatures. If you're going to try and goad at least get your facts straight, retard.
You sound scared. You should be.
Like kicking an ant hill. Look at 'em go.
That's not how it works, but you keep telling yourself that.
Nah, I will bask in the light and watch you squirm.
So obsessed and panick-brained that they can't even post their regular propaganda, at this time of night even. Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do?
Consistent for years and now all of a sudden the gaslighting that I'm crazy begins when I dare to go toe to toe with them daily and gain ground. No. Not crazy. Seeing through the bullshit for what it is. Walls closing in, 3 steps at a time.
I'll bet they actually feel the walls closing in around them now. It's palpable for them now. I told you moran shills that making me your target was the dumbest mistake you ever made. You couldn't just leave me alone to shitpost and make jokes in peace, no, you're the ones that started it. And I'll be laughing my ass off when the big guns finish it.
Step outside for a weening smoke and I saw that blinky to the north. Doing a 180 in direction, stopping and hovering, doing a 180 again. Would have stayed and watched longer but it's a wee bit chilly outside. Thank you. Come closer next time. o7
You have to find him on your own. The door is shown by many, but you have to walk through it yourself.