WHEEEZE

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five word prompts

[inspired by this]

“actually… i just miss you.”

“alright, i’ll leave you alone.”

“and slowly… i was forgotten.”

“and then everything just disappears.”

“and where do i go?”

“anyone could tell from here.”

“are you finishing that or…?”

“are you stupid or stupid?”

“anything, just call me, okay?”

“bitch better have my money.”

“bro… that’s so… not cool…”

“but did you do it?”

“call me now. it’s urgent.”

“can’t you listen to me?”

“cross that. don’t answer that.”

“don’t even think about it.”

“don’t you dare walk away.”

“do it. i dare you.”

“did you think i forgot?”

“eventually… you just move on.”

“even if you still do.”

“everything will fall into place.”

“fight me, you attractive stranger.”

“for once, i need you.”

“for once… i was right.”

“for once… i was wrong.”

“forget i even asked you.”

“forget it. you fucking suck.”

“fuck’s sake, what’s your problem?”

“fuck off. i mean it.”

“give and take. that’s life.”

“great. perfect. nice. fuck this.”

“have you lost your mind?”

“hello? it’s me. i was-”

“hey… that wasn’t so nice.”

“here’s a glass of whatever.”

“how about a hug, hm?”

“how about you make me?”

“i haven’t forgot you yet.”

“i can’t be around you.”

“i don’t need you, really.”

“i don’t need this now.”

“is this your first time?”

“it’s just a cut, really.”

“it wasn’t me, i swear!”

“i said i love you.”

“just don’t fuck it up.”

"just… come back alive, okay?”

“just make sure you’ve eaten.”

“kick his ass for me.”

“killed him? wait, what, literally?”

“life really sucks. feel better.”

“letting go hurts… a lot.”

“let me live, will you?”

“no, i don’t need you.”

“nothing can hurt me now.”

“nothing matters anymore to me.”

“okay it was me… so?”

“people lie all the time.”

“pipe the fuck down, asshole.”

“please, you can’t die now.”

“please don’t leave me alone.”

“quiet. they can hear us.”

“quick! give me your phone!”

“quicker, you freaking piece of-”

“quit it or i’ll bite.”

“quit staring! they’ll notice us!”

"really? do i look stupid?”

“real smooth, tripping over air.”

“rise and shine, sweet thing.”

“rise and fucking shine, motherfucker.”

“seriously? give me a break.”

“so… what are we now?”

“so… did you miss me?”

“so… can we go eat?”

“so… when’s the next flight?”

“so… how did everything go?”

“sometimes, i wish you died.”

“so what? you did it.”

“time passes slower without you.”

“then what do you suggest?”

“the fuck? who are you?”

“then you tell me why.”

“this is not working out.”

“this isn’t what i wanted.”

“this is all a fucking disaster.”

“when did it all happen?”

“who knew you’d be here?”

“why do i even bother?”

“why do i love you?”

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“you’re just… so, so stupid.”

“you can’t be here now.”

“you look like an accident.”

“you really need to go.”

“you know who to call.”

"zero fucks given. next please.”

It’s sad how folks will twist your words and intentionally try to fuck up your reputation and literally exaggerate and fabricate your character on no basis, just because they have shit they are personally hiding and don’t want you to get close to people they are close to because the truth will be revealed. I hate dynamics like this but its real. Really tragic. One of the reasons I hate cliques.

This made me wheeze

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@keiimyeh

@feminists-against-feminism damn-

I wasn't wrong at all, you really are woke yourself--

Fun fact: did you know that Minecraft's creator is(or was?) a channer?

From what I heard, in the early stages of his game he advertised it on there

It’s still very strange that the creator of minecraft, arguably the biggest video game released in the last decade - something that has had an immense cultural impact worldwide - went on to become a sheltered, miserable and lonely racist billionaire. The creator of an immense achievement that has inspired millions - who also hasn’t had anything to do with it for years and spends his time regurgitating /pol/ right wing talking points on twitter as he lounges in his mansion, all alone. He sends the tweet and closes his phone, discouraged by the bloated pockmarked face he sees staring at him in the reflection, before attempting to clear his mind with a visit to his candy room.

It is an unsuccessful venture. The candy room can’t soothe him - none of his excessive, wasteful wealth can. “.. a car showroom, vodka and tequila bars, a 54-foot curved glass door that opens onto the pool, eight bedrooms, 15 bathrooms, apartment-sized closets, and a movie theater..” This opulence does not bring him relief, but he hoards it regardless - it’s his, damn it, and he deserves it. He will die in this mansion - this tomb - in bathroom #6 of #15, on the toilet, in the middle of writing a racist inflammatory tweet, because that is the closest thing he gets to human contact anymore. A real connection.

Minecraft 

What is your best conspiracy theory

the government paid Stanley Kubrick to film a fake moon landing but he’s such a perfectionist that he demanded they film on location