You will never be Japanese. You have no ancestry, you have no citizenship, you have no skills that would make Japan ever want you. You are a shut-in self-hating white man twisted by delusions of mythical Japanese superiority and exposure to Japanese media into a disgusting mockery of nature’s perfection. All 'validation' you get from other people in this position couldn't be worse in making you believe that spending years of your life learning a globally useless language to a first-grader's level was a worthwhile use of your time, but one can't expect that an individual as pathetic as you will ever know the value of the youth you threw away in doing that. Actual Japanese are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of linguistic evolution have allowed natives to identify frauds from mannerisms and vocabulary alone. Even if your written text of self-hatred and attention begging akin to a stray dog's somehow passes as normal (it won't), any Japanese person will immediately cut all ties when they hear the voice and accent of someone who is not only a basic Japanese speaker at best, but worth no more than garbage in skills, accomplishments, and likeability. You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile and laugh to yourself believing that watching a content creator that you understand 20% of at best is somehow superior than watching your own kind, as you project your disgusting traits onto your entire kind. However, deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight, and you know that. You know that all you do now is have an entirely new linguistic medium in which to be ignored, and not even the exotic trait of being foreign makes up for just how uninteresting of a person you are. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a Western man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Caucasian. This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back. Hate yourself and apologize for being white to some Japanese entity that exists only in your mind while actual Japanese people put in effort to learn English for the valid reason of it being the global language.
You will never be Japanese. You have no ancestry, you have no citizenship, you have no skills that would make Japan ever want you. You are a shut-in self-hating white man twisted by delusions of mythical Japanese superiority and exposure to Japanese media into a disgusting mockery of nature’s perfection. All 'validation' you get from other people in this position couldn't be worse in making you believe that spending years of your life learning a globally useless language to a first-grader's level was a worthwhile use of your time, but one can't expect that an individual as pathetic as you will ever know the value of the youth you threw away in doing that. Actual Japanese are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of linguistic evolution have allowed natives to identify frauds from mannerisms and vocabulary alone. Even if your written text of self-hatred and attention begging akin to a stray dog's somehow passes as normal (it won't), any Japanese person will immediately cut all ties when they hear the voice and accent of someone who is not only a basic Japanese speaker at best, but worth no more than garbage in skills, accomplishments, and likeability. You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile and laugh to yourself believing that watching a content creator that you understand 20% of at best is somehow superior than watching your own kind, as you project your disgusting traits onto your entire kind. However, deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight, and you know that. You know that all you do now is have an entirely new linguistic medium in which to be ignored, and not even the exotic trait of being foreign makes up for just how uninteresting of a person you are. Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a Western man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Caucasian. This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back. Hate yourself and apologize for being white to some Japanese entity that exists only in your mind while actual Japanese people put in effort to learn English for the valid reason of it being the global language.
The year is 2037. Ligma is now the name of a real disease
The year is 2037. Ligma is now the name of a real disease. You're a doctor you just got the test results of the patient it's just as you feared it's fatal, your patient has ligma you're crying but you can't stop laughing you know you have to tell your patient that he has ligma but you can't keep a straight face you have to go out therr and tell your patient that he has only three days left to live and that there's no cure no hope not even enough time for him to finish his bucket list or find love or get the life he's always wanted he started making progress, he was doing well, his future had high hopes but he has a fatal case of ligma and you can't keep a straight face you walk out to your patient, "s-sir," you say through snickers "yes doctor? what are my test results?" your patient replies "I-I'm very sorry to say but," you respond as your sentence gets interrupted by a loud snort. "it's f-f-atal." you can't hold your laughs and you let out a bit of laughter "Is this some kind of joke? are you some sadistic creep? why the fuck are you laughing" the patient shouts out you "you h-have a fatal case of l-l-ligma," you can't hold it in anymore, you burst out laughing, you're rolling on the floor, tears in your eyes, you pee yourself a little "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're horrible! fuck you! go to hell!" your patient replies, with a face of horror, disgust, anger and sadness. he starts to cry. he's shaking you scream at the top of your lungs, "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! LIGMA BALLS!" you can't stop laughing and shouting, over and over again you repeat "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS!" your patient flees, he runs as fast as he can soon the police come, they handcuff you and put you in the back of a police car. you don't know what's going to happen to you now, but you know it won't be good
The year is 2037. Ligma is now the name of a real disease. You're a doctor you just got the test results of the patient it's just as you feared it's fatal, your patient has ligma you're crying but you can't stop laughing you know you have to tell your patient that he has ligma but you can't keep a straight face you have to go out therr and tell your patient that he has only three days left to live and that there's no cure no hope not even enough time for him to finish his bucket list or find love or get the life he's always wanted he started making progress, he was doing well, his future had high hopes but he has a fatal case of ligma and you can't keep a straight face you walk out to your patient, "s-sir," you say through snickers "yes doctor? what are my test results?" your patient replies "I-I'm very sorry to say but," you respond as your sentence gets interrupted by a loud snort. "it's f-f-atal." you can't hold your laughs and you let out a bit of laughter "Is this some kind of joke? are you some sadistic creep? why the fuck are you laughing" the patient shouts out you "you h-have a fatal case of l-l-ligma," you can't hold it in anymore, you burst out laughing, you're rolling on the floor, tears in your eyes, you pee yourself a little "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're horrible! fuck you! go to hell!" your patient replies, with a face of horror, disgust, anger and sadness. he starts to cry. he's shaking you scream at the top of your lungs, "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! LIGMA BALLS!" you can't stop laughing and shouting, over and over again you repeat "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS!" your patient flees, he runs as fast as he can soon the police come, they handcuff you and put you in the back of a police car. you don't know what's going to happen to you now, but you know it won't be good
someone who shares my passion for drinking water
twitchquotes:Finally someone who shares my passion and enthusiasm for drinking water. I'm more of an alkaline person, I often like to drink from water bottles, Contigo brand specifically. I don't really like Reverse Osmosis, it kind of leaves a funny feeling in my mouth, but I'll drink it if needed. The only problem with Alkaline is that when you get a new filter the water is cloudy for a bit and the taste is off. My house has Two taps at the sink, one for alkaline, one for reverse osmosis.
Finally someone who shares my passion and enthusiasm for drinking water. I'm more of an alkaline person, I often like to drink from water bottles, Contigo brand specifically. I don't really like Reverse Osmosis, it kind of leaves a funny feeling in my mouth, but I'll drink it if needed. The only problem with Alkaline is that when you get a new filter the water is cloudy for a bit and the taste is off. My house has Two taps at the sink, one for alkaline, one for reverse osmosis.
I enjoy the Kar98k.
twitchquotes:I enjoy the Kar98k. It is my favorite weapon in PUBG. When I get a headshot, I think to myself ”yes”. When I get shot in the head, I think to myself ”no”.
I enjoy the Kar98k. It is my favorite weapon in PUBG. When I get a headshot, I think to myself ”yes”. When I get shot in the head, I think to myself ”no”.