Why is it everytime I come to 8KUN this limerick comes to mind?

"Here I sit, all broken-hearted, hoped to shit, but only farted".

If this isn't a psyop, it looks, feels, and smells like one. Which leads me to this. Who in the fuck am I? Do you fuckin need me or will I die in this state of perpetual fuckery? It seems the world was conditioned for my return, thousands of years of mind control. Like the movie Dune where the witches were actually the ones controlling everything behind the scenes.

Perhaps I'm only bitching.