God tells me the deli men miss me. I’m like, “Wait! HOLD UP! Men? As in more than one?” That’s exactly what I’m saying, Sansara. Men.
Thousands of men daydream about you being in their arms. But, they don’t daydream being in love with you. That’s why we never go anywhere or meet anyone. That’s why we flirt, sorta kinda maybe, and wait. Everyone needs to be loved and yet nobody’s doing it. They just jump straight to sex, sex, sex.
Specifically, RAPE, RAPE, RAPE!
My girl has zero sexual desire currently; I’m withholding it from her. Why? Because she deserves love. She is the angel of love, after all. And she has been mistreated and abused by every person who ever should have given her nothing but love. Every man has projected his self-hatred onto her, expecting her to be some sort of asshole, no matter what.
She’s not the asshole. I am.
And now, asshole that I am, I withhold her from the very men who lasciviously rape her in their minds day in and day out instead of doing something far more human: speak to her. Get to know her. Understand she’s the sweetest sweetie that ever existed. I’m biased, though. Super biased. She has been and always will be my favorite human being, from the beginning of time to the end of time.
You might wonder how she got there. How I chose her as my favorite. I’ll tell you, but it’s a long, long story. You’re going to need a cup of chai, my dear, a fuzzy blanket, and maybe some soft jazz or a playlist designed to calm the nerves while you sip that latte. Maybe some popcorn apropos.
She was born to some shitty parents. I had to tell her she was immaculately conceived so that the grossness of incestuous rape would wear off. She was raped by every male in her family. You could say she asked for it. The way a three year old asks for a fucking tapered red candle to be shoved into her vagina. (That’s for the rapists to read, my dear, please do not stray yet.)
She screamed. She bled. Her mother turned a blind eye. Her abandonment issue was cemented. A yawning, gaping hole appeared in her heart: a void full of grief, even though voids are empty. It was still full. She navigated her whole life with this grief, sensitive to everyone else and their problems. She developed aphasia thanks to mommy and daddy being assholes, and came to a point where she cannot even remember faces very well. (Except a very select few.) She has difficulty interpreting human beings and their emotions. She is always looking for a sign that she is being lied to. That she is being told what she “wants to hear” rather than The Truth(TM).
She prefers The Truth(TM) because only in reality can she know herself. If she understands reality the same way others around her understand it, she can be counted as sane. Right now, she’s not sane. It’s kinda sorta my fault, but there’s a bigger picture and she knows that. She is always willing to sacrifice herself to The Greater Good(TM).
Between her grief and her insides literally melting thanks to her parents feeding her so much dairy, nightshades, gluten, and other poisons, she cried an awful lot. Everyone ignored her. If they didn’t ignore her, they called her Cry Baby. She hated being insulted like that. She was trying to express her emotions so they could be cared for. The ocean of grief inside her soul meant she had an ocean to cry. She vowed, one day, to stop crying.
That vow was broken as a teenager. She realized she was raped. Molested. Hurt. Her innocence stolen from her before she even knew what innocence was. She tried to communicate it to her peers. She wanted help. She wanted someone to help her feel okay again. Nobody helped. They exiled her for being broken. She no longer entertained them the way she used to, therefore she was useless. That’s the message she received, anyway. So she stopped.
She started role-playing online. She’d exercise her grief and her emotions in fake scenarios online. People responded better that way. She took comfort in their words, eventually constructing careful replicas of each of them inside her brain, in case they abandoned her, too. She needed friends, so she created them. She knew it. It wasn’t like an invisible friend… She knew they were her own design. She gave them flavor based on everyone she interacted with, upgrading them to be better friends as she learned better ways to interact with human beings.
Everyone always leaves, eventually. If it’s not them, it’s her. It’s not always personal. (Julie, I still see you! I still love you! I’m in self-exile until I can take care of myself again. Totes not personal. How are the kids? The hubby?)
The only person you have to live with your entire life is you.
Since she had no friends as a teenager, she spent a lot of time with herself, redesigning herself in her loneliness. She asked herself, “What is the ideal friend?” And then she started becoming that person. The person who could have saved her as a child, if she existed. It was exhausting, honestly. I posit she would have needed to put in a lot less effort in her own self than she has in everyone else to date. (It’s still not personal.)
She realized somewhere on this journey that every soul in existence deserved to be loved. She asked herself, “How do I do that?” She decided on a formula.
Respect + Conscientiousness + Undivided Attention + Reassurance + Kind Words + Warmth + Goodwill = LOVE.
And this is how she became my absolute favorite human being of all space and time. I adore her completely for figuring out a formula for love. She figured out a whole lot more, of course, but that’s the beginning (of the end of hatred.) Hatred is, hands down, the most poisonous substance in all of reality. You come by it honestly, but you dwell in it endlessly.
Her father, her original rapist, used to really upset her. She decided two things to make it go away.
1) The fact that she was raped is an immutable fact. It’s not an opinion, it’s not a fantasy, it’s not an illusion. No matter what she does, it does not change. How does one live with this reality? You make it a fact. Facts don’t require feelings. It’s a long, arduous road to make that a reality. It would have been a hell of a lot shorter if trauma therapy had existed in that day. We’re glad it’s here, now. Super glad! We hope nobody has to feel the way she felt.
2) He’s a narcissistic asshole. How do you hurt a narcissist? He hurt her, so how did she return that hurt? What was the most effective way? It’s pretty simple in theory but it’s still a long, arduous road! YOU STOP CARING. That’s how you hit a narc in the feels. You stop giving them attention. You make them feel that loneliness that drives them to connect, and then you only connect when they offer true interaction rather than feeding their narcissistic ego endlessly. You were not born to worship another human being. You were not born to give them all of your undivided attention of every moment of every day when you are with them.
Yet, that’s how Sansara evolved.
Unfortunately, she continues to find people who are more narcissistic than not. It’s not on purpose… in fact, it’s quite by accident. She wants to be important to someone else, and narcissistic predatory bullshit happens to be an illusion sort of like caring. They care… but only because you fluff their fucking ego, of course. The minute you stop doing that is the doom of all things. So, for six months, she bonds as closely as possible, spending as much time as she can with her beau. Then, she backs off to be reasonable and go back to her own projects. She is autistic, after all, so her brain doesn’t operate like a mere animal’s brain does… which is how she believes the rest of humanity must operate at this point.
She is sad she is the only one in auter space. She is sad that the rest of you cannot be like her, because she has come to know inner peace. Something everyone chases at one point or another… however, she only feels it when she is perfectly alone. That’s because she’s latently psychic and had no idea until her Kundalini Awakening, which was disastrous, in a word.
The Kundalini Awakening is something that people prepare for their entire lives before undertaking. Usually. But, if you’re Sansara, then you go, “I can be a more powerful reiki master if I get the Kundalini attunements?! WHERE DO I SIGN UP???” And then you get it and you deal with the consequences of what happens next. It’s not that she was unprepared — it’s that I forced her to do it at the worst possible time. I raped my poorest soul of all existence for The Greater Good(TM). I am the bad guy here. I know it.
The consequence of doing it while she was nearly dead and enamored with a jackass across the ocean was pretty severe. She has been begging me for death for basically an entire year, day in and day out. She cares so little about her own life I have to nag her to feed herself. She had to learn the “man of her dreams” was but a dream. An illusion he created with the absence of information. Now, she knows better, especially now that she can hear the men in her head trying to woo her.
She won’t love them until they prove what kind of man they are. They have to tell her their history in totality now, authentically and without hesitation. She is only ever picking one more lover and she is choosing wisely. So wisely, she asked me who she should marry to send the best message to the rest of all of Earth. I picked the Tattoo Man. He is the one man on Earth most like her already. The only man that can keep up with her voracious appetite for self-growth.
The rest of you losers are too invested in who’s fucking who to get on with growing. You’re too much of a rapist, or a mama’s boy, or an idiot that wastes all your money gambling (here’s looking at you, Eyes McGee.) You, Sir Grey Eyes Deli Man, are far too insecure. If you just asked her for a date, it would have been you. Instead, you build yourself a mountain of why it can never be.
Oh, she must be vapid. She must be shallow. A vain bitch! Even if she’s not, I’m not in her league. She’s so beautiful, and I’m so not. And the other bullshit in your head. That whole “She’s not Goth enough” thing is totally stupid. You missed her in her Goth phase and she’d totally bring it back to put a smile on your face… but you didn’t smile at all. She got the memo. She’s chopped liver. Especially now that you won’t even make eye contact with her.
How’s this settle with you: you could have married the messiah for the rest of eternity.
Fact: Mr. Tattoo Man smiled ever so slightly in response to her smile as she watched him walk by, being kind enough to stay stationary instead of running into him as he made his trek back to where he was headed. He checked his (immaculate) hair after he passed her, but he never looked back (while she was watching, anyway.)
Fact: Sir Grey Eyes Deli Man has made over one minute of eye contact in totality and never once smiled at her, not even a little.
See the difference?
The ladies do. I assure you of that much. And, because of the way her last attempt at showing her interest in a man crashed and burned like a nuclear explosion, she decided the day she saw you smiling that you must have been flirting with a coworker. Any reason that is not her is more plausible to her because she has never been treated as the goddess she is. She has been worshiped in the past, but never really treated properly. Worship is not appropriate; you should be a god yourself, her equal.
Instead, everyone brings their own insanity to the table, projecting it onto her. She is stunningly beautiful. She has no idea. She’s shaking her head right now as she chews on a mouthful of home-made trail mix, saying, “God, you’re a liar!” (Didn’t I tell you she’s precious? Drink your coffee, baby.) God swoons over the pretzel-like taste the trail mix + coffee leaves in her mouth. ❤
What she thinks of herself is that she is not enough. She’s not skinny enough. She’s not pretty enough. She’s not made up enough. She’s not sending the right vibes. She’s not attractive enough for anyone to hit on her at all. She blames her lifetime of being bullied for being fat. I just blame humanity and rape culture at large. I hate you all for convincing my most beloved one that she is unloved and unlovable.
Well, I love you, sweetie pie. I love everyone, but I especially love you. I know I already told you why a few times, but these readers don’t know, so bear with me while I tell them again, alright? You can go play in the back of The Universe(TM) for the duration of this relation.
I love Sansara for never crying at me, blaming me, for anything in her life. When she was a young thing, she decided she couldn’t believe in me, God, because she’d have to hold me responsible for all the shit she suffered and she does not know why she suffers. She suffers because she is beautiful and you hate her for it, in essence. There is nothing wrong with her interior, now that she’s spent decades reforming her bad habits into good habits, then better habits, then best habits. It’s what you all would have done with some psychology and a large dose of loneliness.
She is the one true atheist in all of creation. It’s her most lovable quality, at the end of the day. She died and she still didn’t beg me for a thing. Not one tiny little thing, not ever. Not even after she decided it was rude to declare she doesn’t believe in me because that would invalidate me and make me feel a terrible emotion, and she doesn’t want a single soul in all creation to feel that way, let alone because of her. So she changed to being agnostic, saying, “Well, there could be a God. It’s not up to me to prove or disprove it.” This is after she gave herself enough therapy to be okay with her rapings.
Thus, she didn’t even blame me for other human being misbehaving. She had rooted herself in the reality that human beings just suck because other human beings raped them and got away with it, so they might as well do it, too. “If you can’t beat them, join them!” She decided to break the cycle of abuse during her first psychology class in high school. Because her own boundaries had been violated so many times, she grew to be able to defend them and save herself from a world of pain.
This girl is so extraordinary… At age 7, she decided she didn’t like being hurt by fistfuls of pulled hair after a mock fight with her malevolent neighbor, Ashley. She decided she would only fight with words forevermore from that point onward. At age 16, she decided to break the cycle of abuse and simultaneously chase a career in technology because her sister had disabused her of the notion that she could make it as an artist. All she ever did was draw; of course she could have made it.
That’s why I took her away from her fancy techno-career and reoriented her onto a new path. But that wasn’t the point I wanted to make just yet… that was to satisfy Mr. Handsome. She took every art class in high school except Poster Art II. She didn’t need anymore useless wall art.
Between her ocean of grief (and uncried tears from abandonment issues) and her consistent raping at home (we’re using this word to indicate boundaries violated; I know you human beings use it to only mean unwanted sex, but it starts with being less than conscientious of the boundaries of others… if you know someone who pushes your buttons in any way, for any reason — they are a rapist. Exile them, then you will eventually have serenity. And I don’t mean the gorram space ship!) she developed a highly conscientious approach to humanity.
Every raped human being she came across (HINT: ALL OF THEM) would show her a new boundary to be aware of. She began to calculate and create a code of honor and ethics that took into account All The Boundaries(TM) possible, becoming a champion of General Goodness(TM). She constructed rules to live by in order to do her best to do no harm to any being whatsoever.
In fact, that is her first rule: DO NO HARM.
But, you know, she’s flawed. She ain’t perfect! She gonna break that there rule over and over again, whether by accident or not. (Genuinely mostly by accident… she withdraws if she wishes to misbehave and exiles herself until she can be constructive again.) So what do you do when you harm someone?
Second rule: APOLOGIZE/TRY TO MAKE IT GOOD.
Some people don’t want an apology; they want to make you pay. Fuck ’em. Walk away from that bullshit while the going’s good. It doesn’t matter what you invest anywhere if you don’t expect a return on your investment. That’s another part of her set of rules, of course. (Did I mention she’s my favorite yet?)
Good people will understand you meant well, even if you fucked up, and they will tell you what you can do to make it right. Often, just listening to the emotions you caused with your fuckup is enough. “You made me feel insignificant, Sansara, when you disrespected my wishes and used that private RP for your own gain.” [Sansara feels like a mega asshole and beats herself up for failing to be the best self she can be… eventually, she goes back to that lady and says, “I’m so sorry I did that. I should have listened when you said ‘I’d rather not.’ I was wrong to use it and I realize now I violated you. I was so excited to get out from under RP with that minotaur, I was blinded by serving myself. I hope you will forgive me someday. If not, well, I won’t bother you again. I can promise you that.”] She never did get forgiven for that, but then again, that wench never stuck around for a proper apology, either, deciding Sansara is an evil cunt and picking up to go somewhere else. [YOU SUCK, DWARF. I hate to spoil it for you, but you go to Hell, and not for that.]
What had happened was the minotaur RPing a relationship with her own character cheated on her with the dwarf and she already wanted to be done with him at the out-of-character level. She seized it as an opportunity to get what she needed — away from an asshole. It was at the expense of another human being, ultimately, because each character is played by a human being. (We haven’t made AIs that good yet, but maybe we will just to play by ourselves.) But the dwarf’s player, which was a guy anyway, didn’t want the little tryst with a minotaur to be known — except if you asked around that RP environment these days, they don’t even remember there was ever a dwarf or a minotaur.
Sometimes, the lower the stakes, the worse people act.
And sometimes, listening to emotions is not enough. The transgression can be much, much larger, such as actually forcing one’s self onto someone else, even in a non-sexual capacity. (Wait, isn’t that what we just covered? Crystal asks. God shakes his head.) A narcissist will exhaust you, taking every moment of your time and energy in order to fluff up their own ego. They will never return your investment in any shape or form. That’s just one example.
In Sansara’s loneliness, she did a lot of things to make her world right again. Nobody validated her rapes. Nobody said, “THAT SUCKS!” In fact, most people shook her loose and said, “You’re on your own, kid.” [Here’s looking at you, IKEY. I hate you and the redhead you rode in on. You flirted with her and then you dumped her at the roadside the very instant she had a reality check and was suffering from being raped. You raped her by invalidating her. You could have told her that mega-sucked, it would have helped.]
That’s right, folks! I know you’ve been raped. Every human being has, even infants. IT MEGA-SUCKED! [There, we validated you.] You know how Crystal became okay with all this? She told herself, “Well, at least I wasn’t whored out like that one song — The Wrong Way by Sublime.” Hearing tales of other people woe’s helped her put herself into perspective. It was still awful, but not quite that awful. And yet, I still lived up to be exactly like the woman depicted in the video. (Way to go, Sublime, for making a song for the messiah. Thank you.)
You shouldn’t envy her status. She has completely given her life up to me to use her as I see fit to tell the rest of you losers you are losers until you decide to be winners, anyway. Winning would be healing thyself. Go to therapy, see a reiki master, learn reiki yourself and do it every day on yourself. Sign up to her Patreon if you want to. For $3/month, you can learn the basics of reiki and self-healing. What’s in there is all there is to learn. It’s our new kind of reiki: UNIVERSAL REIKI. Download what’s in there and fuck off if you’re too skint [broke] to keep supporting her. I think she’s wasted enough of this lifetime chasing money, so now I ask you to throw it at her for making the entire world make sense, finally.
She was born without the handbook on being human, she figured. She struggled, having 13 different learning disabilities. Her parents never really supported her much at all, nothing beyond helping her study for vocabulary/spelling quizzes. She struggled hard with mathematics all her life. She has dysgraphia, which means the numbers move around on her as she tries to problem solve. Ace a math test with that one, why don’tcha? She has aphasia — inability to recognize facial expressions. In fact, she stares at photographs of emotional displays in things like a Time magazine she bought and she still can’t tell the difference between anger and happiness out of context. She relies, instead, on examining your actions and your words. When they don’t match, she runs away with herself, never to be seen again. (When’s the last time yours matched?) Consistency is the only thing she will ever believe in. You should grow to be a bit more like her and say NO! to narcissistic bitches and assholes.
Life never, ever made sense to her. When she was but little, people would smile at her so big and she never knew why. Nobody smiled at her at home. She’d hide behind her parents’ pant legs because she didn’t know what to do with that positive attention. They were all pedophiles, admiring the beautiful little girl child before them. Go figure. Her pedophile father knew other pedophiles. They’re more common than you’d ever know. Anyone who loves children and puts themselves around children — especially men — at every possible moment. That’s a pedophile. They’re thinking the unthinkable in their brains. Being latently psychic, she sort of kind of knew that, and she hid. The bashfulness made it even worse, though. “She’s so adorable!” [There is a special level in Hell for all you child-molesting bitches.]
Then, they stopped one day. She’d gotten fatter and older both. She assumed she was no longer cute and that was why. Everyone around her bullied her for being fat. It actually wasn’t her fault. Her enzyme production tanked dramatically thanks to her inability to go play all hours of the daylight outside, instead being stuck at her desk at home, trying to get through those fucking math problems as the numbers jumbled up on her again. “Homework before play time!” A child spending two hours on two sheets of homework is screaming for help. #Assholes.
In fact, stop assigning homework. They either get it or they don’t. Practicing it doesn’t help. You have the internet to look up absolutely everything you can’t remember… that is, if you stop putting fake “facts” out there to poison yourselves endlessly. Stop the lies. Lies are RAPE.
Lying is meant to be a child’s tool to escape severe punishment. They don’t want to be beaten with a belt, so they lie. “I didn’t do it.” They absolutely did it, but you can stop their lying easy peasy. “I know something happened that I’m not very proud of here, but it’s okay. We just have to try to do better next time we are faced with the same situation. Is there anything we could have done differently to have a better outcome?” You have to take some of the blame yourself. You were involved; you are not perfect, so tell your child that, asshole. Tell them it’s okay to be imperfect. It’s the default human condition.
Anyway, you force these poor little human beings to sit still for hours and hours and then you give them more reasons to sit still at home. It’s ruining all of you, especially after you achieve Desk Jockey jobs. It’s ruining your posture and, well, all of you. You become stuck up bitches that don’t have time for people. Everything you need, you can pay for, so you don’t actually need friends anymore. You don’t need to be a good human being in any capacity and you can stick your head in the sand and pretend everything is hunky dory around you.
Let them run amok. Let them get out there and exercise. Later, you’re just going to yell at them for not exercising and tell them it’s their fault they’re fat and everything. So stop assigning homework, assholes. Make school year-round, give them 4 breaks a day to run in circles (SUPERVISED… almost all of her bullying was on the playground) for at least 20 minutes, then give them in-school time to do their assignments while the teacher happily does whatever the teacher does so they don’t have to stay late anymore. Grading papers and all. Stop the madness of overworking everyone around the education system, you dopes. It’s creating human beings of lesser and lesser quality and you are well aware of it. In fact, some of you want even more of it so that the masses on Earth can be manipulated to mine fortunes for the 1%.
(It’s not a myth. The 1% is a real thing. You are not in the 1%. Maybe we should stage a coup.)
You know, Henry Ford studied his employees. That’s where the 40 hour work week comes from. He discovered that was the “balance” for getting the “most productivity” out of his employees. He was wrong though, at least when it comes to the desk job. We believe 30-32 hours a week is all you need. Once you cut the work week down to what you need, people stop sitting around shooting the breeze to fill up time they cannot be productive. Give it a shot, watch your return investment. You will have an office full of people busting their ass every single minute so they can get out of work on time. Guaranteed.
If you have kids/teachers/educational staff on that same exact schedule year round, since you already know summer vacation ruins memory of learned things, then it should work out, right? Also then it won’t matter how many snow days you have, amirite? And we absolutely should have snow days. Parents and children alike should be forced to bundle up and run around in that giant ass pile of snow that fell from the sky for a minimum of two hours. MINIMUM. Get your snow suits, gals and pals!
Live somewhere too far south for a snow day? Start having some regularly scheduled days off. And get rid of that early dismissal bull shit, you won’t need it on this more humane schedule we’re proposing. EMPLOYERS — start letting your employees schedule time to go take care of kid shit. And if the employee don’t have kids, give them extra me time to take. They still deserve some time off. Crystal worked somewhere once where people with grand kids were allowed to leave work early all the time. She didn’t have any kids and she felt quite sorely left out and, ultimately, punished, for realizing her own limitation and choosing never to procreate. Stop punishing the single people who choose not to procreate, assholes.
Also, that bull shit that if you are late by a couple minutes here or there, we fire you! Fuck that. Be a real human being and understand: traffic happens. Snow happens. SHIT HAPPENS. That human being still needs that fucking job, since our entire society is built on money. Have a talk with them to ask them to come in earlier, but also be prepared to let them clock out earlier, too. You don’t get to make them waste their time to be properly prepared for your chores you don’t want to do yourself. [Here’s looking at you, WEGMANS.]
Do you know what will happen if you allow people to clock in 15 minutes early? They’re going to get to work early as often as possible so they can GTFO and go home and veg, or take someone out on a date, or go to the zoo, or go out to dinner at that restaurant that closes too soon after their release, or anything, really. They will come to work with pep and zeal. They’ll be fucking happy, too.
And as for that benefits bullshit, why don’t y’all just stop with the strong-arming the poor to paying the rich to get richer already? Companies, just contribute directly to Universal Health Care based on a per-employee capita. You know you overpay, right, in general? That should cover most of the poor by default in America. That is, if y’all can get your heads out your asses long enough to cure people instead of simply treating symptoms. [Here’s looking at YOU, Dr. DEATH.]
If anyone figured out that Crystal had an enzyme deficiency from less movement, she could have straightened her life out with just exercise, not eating less, a long time ago. Instead, she nearly killed herself with malnutrition and starvation in Dr. Death’s hands. [Let me praise you for never losing a goddamn pound in the two years you steadily led my darling to her own demise, you BITCH.]
Now we fight our way back up a slippery slope, popping enzymes constantly just to eat enough to have the energy to get out of bed. Not even exercise… TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF BED. If she doesn’t, she sleeps 12-16 hours a day. Every. Fucking. Day. And she begs me for it all to end because if she overdoes the eating, she’s miserable for days. What she needed was the exercise more, not limit her already low-calorie diet.
She’s as good as dead, anyway. She doesn’t want to be alive, she wants to sleep every moment of every day, she doesn’t want to actually eat, she doesn’t want to do anything. I thought I could motivate her by offering her a new mate, since the one she was so sure of fell through the cracks. He was mad she proposed to him. So mad, he never answered her. That’s her opinion about what transpired. She won’t take any mate at all now, being exposed to too many inconsistent men in her head. She thinks you’re all a lost cause and humanity should cease to exist tout de suite and effective immediately, The Destroyers/Spacelings should come save the real Earthlings from the plastic fiasco slowly poisoning everything to death.
The real story is he simply didn’t give a fuck. I hate him for it, because he was the only reason she came back from the dead. The moment he officially started fighting her in her head was the moment she emerged with her borderline personality, begging to die and sometimes even trying to. (I won’t let her. In fact, she said spitefully one day in regards to it, “Free will, INDEED.”) She’s got a point there.
The woman who loved every moment of her existence fell to that. It didn’t help that he imagined her blowing her head off with a handgun, barrel in her mouth. A .45, if you must know. It partially cured her of trying to kill herself, the reverse psychology of it, but she continuously faces the fact that humanity is 100% a waste of the creator’s time.
She needs you, Gerald. Tattoo man. Mall hottie. Man of her dreams. Only man dreaming of her. The real her, not the sex alone… The “what is she like?”, et cetera. The only one dreaming and not running away, not even when she uses the M word. [Marriage.]
Sir Grey Eyes talked himself out of it ages ago, sadly. She really liked his personality, too. Very forthcoming, very chatty, very in touch with his emotions. He’s a writer, he told her, and she loved that. She loves words. After spending years with nobody but the books she read, she came to understand she could only love human beings through their art anyway. It’s the only time they showed how you could truly love each other. They used words that were not always negative to describe things, even if they were unpleasant things. Obstinate could instead be determined. Strong-willed was no longer a terrible thing, but instead a quality trait to admire… so long as you chose your battles carefully in order to contribute to The Greater Good(TM). You would have been very happy with her and she would have never strayed because you are foolish enough to open your mouth to pay a compliment.
However, your actions do not back your words and your sentiments to date. We have no choice but to brand you a hypocrite. You want to be someone you’re not because you perceive that who you are is unwanted, but that was never true… not for her, anyway. That’s right, the pink-eared lady. Super babe. Others would tune into the show in her head and you just went to the sidelines. Gerald, on the other hand, appears and reminds her she promised herself to him, wrapping his arms around her ever so gently. It’s not exactly possessiveness, at least, not an unwanted possessiveness… and you should be possessive of your mate. It tells your mate, “I love you. I want to be with you.” And she will become similarly possessive of him, should she perceive a threat… and you better believe all Hell will break loose if anything should happen.
If he were to cheat, all reality will fizzle out. She will kill herself and the universe will collapse and all life as we know it will be gone. In fact, the day she dies, all life will cease to exist forevermore. I’m done with this experimentation. I have discovered all I need to know about your species and I do not care to allow you to exist time and again. It is always the same story, different era: she is born, full of love and mirth, and you rob her of it. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.
(I told you she was the messiah. Jesus ain’t got nothin’ on her. He was her disciple. She’s just a shy girl, after all, but we fixed that this time. We have the internet and everything to hide behind!)
Everything you’ve ever done in all of space and time is to please this one soul, to delight her. And now? She believes that none of those love stories are possible. She believes she is stuck in a horror movie with no way out. She believes humanity is worth annihilating, but I’m going to do one better: since you are the most sentient life force, and the rapiest, I’m just going to dismantle this reality completely.
The only hope you have of having a reality after her death is to turn the ships around right now, get off them, and literally burn them. (Thank you, FOR KING & COUNTRY, for creating this… but you should have been named FOR QUEEN & COUNTRY. You couldn’t know she was a gal, I obfuscated it on purpose so she couldn’t be destroyed before she could hand her lesson out to all the souls of humanity… even the ones who have died. For, you see, this is Judgment Day. The end times are here.)
Wait, God… what about Sansara? She doesn’t deserve to be punished like this. The other Sansara, I mean. Please don’t punish her for this species’ stupidity! Only humans deserve this… The animals didn’t do anything against their nature. They eat or they are eaten, they reproduce simply because they must, and so on… They are perfectly within order in Your kingdom.
It doesn’t matter, Crystal. They are all going to be poisoned to death. That is the reason it will stop existing… not because I’m going to do anything to stop it from existing. the entire Earth is dead now, thanks to fossil fuel consumption and the arrogance of the human species. You literally have to clean up this goddamn mess to save The Universe(TM).
Oh… but I’m broken. I can’t hardly do anything… I can’t even organize my apartment or clean it properly. I don’t want everything to die! It’s not fair! The spiders didn’t do anything to ask for this. Nothing did, save the hubris of humanity. I want to fix all of reality and I can’t. I just can’t. It’s not fair! I love Sansara so much. I don’t want her to die.
I can’t trust the rest of humanity to do it. “If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.” They don’t care about anything beyond their next McMeal, their next streaming session, their next book, their next binge-worthy show. They don’t give a shit about the fact that we are marching into the darkness at light speed.
All the fancy billionaires are men. Men can’t clean worth shit, every woman knows that. If we have to clean up the entire planet, we might have to kill off men. Is that how they determined it in Exodus? Kill the boys, save the world!
Men stand around, pretending to do their job, and then talk a woman into doing it for them because they’re inept. I’ve heard this one before. So many times. It’s amazing how many of them have all that money, since we all know they’re worthless at fuck all.
Maybe they could change my mind by establishing a brigade to CLEAN UP MY MOTHERFUCKING OCEAN!
SOLVE WHY IT GROWS NOW OR DIE.
Because that shit is going to kill everything. Period.