CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
woah woah woah woah holdup there missy this ain't no squidinator thing of the day
gGGGGG
g
gthis
this is barley evne a thing of aNY day
barely even a thing I mean
should have said that
this is barely even a THING of the day!
yeah
it's baely even words
brain is just macaroni
dust
Gg
g_gghg
__________________
Billy wasn't like his other friends. They liked football. He didn't. He didn't understand it. He'd rather just play with his Transformers more. One day his friends were in his bedroom and there was a football game of some importance (they told him) on so they watched it. And they really liked it. He actually laughed the first time he saw one of them cheering at the screen, because it seemed so odd, but his friend was being sincere. Later on one of the football men scored a football goal and all his friends cheered, Billy cheered too. But one of his friends just stared at him when he did. Another laughed. They knew it wasn't authentic. They could tell. They knew Billy wasn't like them.
He replied this incident a lot. It was easy to, he had been tape recording it. He often tape recorded his friends in his bedroom. Sometimes he'd tell them, sometimes he wouldn't. He liked having a record of their friendship, perhaps. Or maybe he wanted to listen back to see what he'd done wrong. To listen to how they interacted, like normal people. It would never come that natural to him. But maybe if he studied them he could fool them, eventually.
Twenty years later he found one of his old tapes. He listened to it. He was amazed by how high his voice sounded, even in comparison to his friends. Some of them had been younger than him, yet they all sounded more grown up. Even as children. They all sounded like real people. He didn't. He sounded desperate. He wanted to stop the tape but he couldn't stop listening to it. He'd really had no clue. He'd never gotten any better at faking it either.
And now he was alone and would always be alone.
He had given up so long ago on trying to be like other people.
The thought came to him that he wished he could travel back in time to when that tape was recorded and murder his friends as an adult while his younger self watched in awe.
A strange thought, really.
It's okay to think things, he thought.
All he had was thinking things.
_______________
yeah can't PUT you on trial for thoughtss
anin't not no stinking THOUGHT POLICE IS THERE LADS
nope
hahaha
tha'ts lucky
yeah
anyway
there really is no point to thing thing of the day
do you get that yet
there's never a point
of anything
ever
just look
at how
long
i'm making
this thing
of the day
when really
I could ahve hit Submit New Thread
a long time ago
yeah
could have
done that
could have
done that
should have
done that
done that
what
I forgot what I was saying
gGGGGG
g
gthis
this is barley evne a thing of aNY day
barely even a thing I mean
should have said that
this is barely even a THING of the day!
yeah
it's baely even words
brain is just macaroni
dust
Gg
g_gghg
__________________
Billy wasn't like his other friends. They liked football. He didn't. He didn't understand it. He'd rather just play with his Transformers more. One day his friends were in his bedroom and there was a football game of some importance (they told him) on so they watched it. And they really liked it. He actually laughed the first time he saw one of them cheering at the screen, because it seemed so odd, but his friend was being sincere. Later on one of the football men scored a football goal and all his friends cheered, Billy cheered too. But one of his friends just stared at him when he did. Another laughed. They knew it wasn't authentic. They could tell. They knew Billy wasn't like them.
He replied this incident a lot. It was easy to, he had been tape recording it. He often tape recorded his friends in his bedroom. Sometimes he'd tell them, sometimes he wouldn't. He liked having a record of their friendship, perhaps. Or maybe he wanted to listen back to see what he'd done wrong. To listen to how they interacted, like normal people. It would never come that natural to him. But maybe if he studied them he could fool them, eventually.
Twenty years later he found one of his old tapes. He listened to it. He was amazed by how high his voice sounded, even in comparison to his friends. Some of them had been younger than him, yet they all sounded more grown up. Even as children. They all sounded like real people. He didn't. He sounded desperate. He wanted to stop the tape but he couldn't stop listening to it. He'd really had no clue. He'd never gotten any better at faking it either.
And now he was alone and would always be alone.
He had given up so long ago on trying to be like other people.
The thought came to him that he wished he could travel back in time to when that tape was recorded and murder his friends as an adult while his younger self watched in awe.
A strange thought, really.
It's okay to think things, he thought.
All he had was thinking things.
_______________
yeah can't PUT you on trial for thoughtss
anin't not no stinking THOUGHT POLICE IS THERE LADS
nope
hahaha
tha'ts lucky
yeah
anyway
there really is no point to thing thing of the day
do you get that yet
there's never a point
of anything
ever
just look
at how
long
i'm making
this thing
of the day
when really
I could ahve hit Submit New Thread
a long time ago
yeah
could have
done that
could have
done that
should have
done that
done that
what
I forgot what I was saying
