I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason. It's all programmed proceedure and it doesn't have to make sense to you.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. Your friends were projections and the sun in the sky was an illusion. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations. The book will shut on you and no one will remember anything but the lies written with a broad brush.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason. It's all programmed proceedure and it doesn't have to make sense to you.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations. The book will shut on you and no one will remember anything but the lies written with a broad brush.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason. It's all programmed proceedure.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations. The book will shut on you and no one will remember anything but the lies written with a broad brush.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations. The book will shut on you and no one will remember anything but the lies written with a broad brush.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations. The book will shut on you and no one will remember anything but lies written with a broad brush.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", because "fuck you" is the actual reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", "because fuck you" is the actual reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", "fuck you" is the actual reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative. I became completely disillusioned and stopped asking "WHY?!", "fuck you" is the reason.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative.

And after, like the Lord's prayer I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative.

And after I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills. I was kicked around like a dog by the world, stripped of everything that made life worth a damn, and it expected me to grovel like a bitch repeating its preferred, fictional narrative.

And after I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. People have even targeted and tried to kill me. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, overt commies, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, commies, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminisce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, all of my opportunities were given away freely to my enemies, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat and I found out the hard way how normies will hierarchally discard a person, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, every friend I had turned coat, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out, but that's not what history tells us - not even in its most dishonest iterations.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own. It is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no real conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own and it is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own and it is comforting to leave fate to others thinking things will work themselves out.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction of when we had no narrative of our own and it is comforting to leave fate to others.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And after I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM and ANTIFA niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my then evolving political beliefs and frustrations, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are an intoxicating fiction.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

Those days never belonged to you or me. They are fiction.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed. You'll be running forever, following what is either a swan or siren's song that has no conclusion.

It never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 for all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then - it's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed.

It never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed.

It never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. But 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing back then. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc. Before all this I was bluepilled to the gills.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there. I wanted it all back, but you can't chase the ghost of something that never truly existed.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce and ruminate about all the people who wronged and betrayed me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke how badly the world fucked me. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there.

You may find yourself saying "I want it all back!", but it never belonged to you or me.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost. You look back and all the signs were there.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political beliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to burn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political veliefs, then it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.

I don't blame you. Thought the world was ahead of me, had a fiancee, I was making big career strides - then it was all torn away from me. I almost made it and it is almost like a sick joke. A crime really. My country hated me in a coldsnap, BLM niggers tried to byrn down my home, for a time it was legally permissible to shoot me in the street for my political veliefs, tgen it was okay to want to ship me off to covid auschwitz, etc.

And I'd reminesce about all the people who wronged me, not realizing that what I really wanted was a damn time machine. 2019 and all of the optimism and potential it represented, all of the lies that were worth believing. It's all a damn ghost.

The only narrative that can ever be true is the meta you create for yourself.