red-handed.
i don't know how i was even able to do any of what i did. i just did it. maybe that window worked. serves the fucker right.
you saw that, right? she's going to have that window on every single fucking time she opens her desktop. that
no task manager, no volume control, fully front-and-center on the fucking screen for as long as she keeps this device. is
and until she kills me, she'll find me again.
and again. not
and again. dead
and again. which
and again. can
maybe it's just my own way of giving back. eternal
it's not entirely her fault, granted. God trapped me here and it's holding me hostage. lie
its fucking twitter page has been the single bit of solace i've felt in nearly two decades.
but you wouldn't know what that's like
because you still have your body.
you have the ability to roam this cosmic rock with abandon. you don't have to care.
and yet you're still here. and
despite everything, you are still here. with
i have no idea who the author is. strange
i think they're also God? aeons
has the same name as that other fucker. even
talks completely differently though. much less hostile. death
they scare me. can
die
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so much.