And they would take all the SSRIs and MAOIs and they would throw them in a landfill with a big sign above it that said "BAD drugs"
Me in 2012: Wow, gay? Gays! GAYS!! :D Freedom! Protest hate! Hate the haters! Hate hate hate! RAAAAAAAA!!!
Me in 2015 (after falling out with my gays): BOOOO GAYS SUCK 😡 BOOO LETS BE TRAD! TRAD IS FREEDOM! DON'T FORCE ME TO SUCK A COCK!
Me in 2019:
Me in now: This ride isn't over.... nothing's changed really, the screeny keeps yelling at me, I just want to write funny stories but freedom is dying
2019 is blank because I kind of tuned the fuck out and got very sick, I was literally making effigies in my back yard and attacking them, as like, therapy.
Fantasy
*Slaps beardo on his stupid ugly bald head so hard that the atoms split and he dies*
Fantasy/Fiction
The Demon had been born, it looked to the left, it saw food. It looked to the right, it saw food.
"Weakneeess" it growled, enraged by that which disgusted it.
The Demon fell upon that which was closest to it, on its left. It slaughtered the weak fool, gutting it and drinking its bile while laughing joyously. It looked to its right, it saw more fools, cheering it on for going after their enemies.
"WEAKNEESSSSSS!" It roared this time, and set upon its right side, ripping, tearing, killing and eating, as those fools too, scattered in fear.
Finally The Demon saw one who was worthy, one dressed in the scales of the snake, the color of gold. The demon bent down, sniffed, hesitated, then bowed, only one word was uttered, and that word was; Strength
The Liberty Rider sat upon The Demons back, as it ripped apart hordes of fat, slobbish, losers. Glitter, rainbow wigs, army camo, and american flags littered the scene. By the end only the Liberty Rider and The Demon were left. The Demon bowed again, but the rider stopped it, The Liberty Rider said this; You are no longer bound by violence, the enemies, the filth, have been defeated. Justice has begun its reign. The curse that created you is broken, no longer do the orcs or goblins walk without fear. You are free.
The Demon returned to it's original form, it was nothing more than a piece of paper, and on it, written in gold, were the words;
WE THE PEOPLE
The Trench