Steam-fællesskab

SeToY

Oberhausen, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany

I don't accept friend or group invites from strangers.

Leave a message on my profile if you want to get in contact.

Further info can be found down below in the showcase.

No, it's actually more like we're dancing right now. So let's get to the point. You don't like me. I'm pretty sure I'm not gonna like you. It's nothing personal, I don't like anybody.

Success is my only ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥' option, failure is not.

Did I ever tell you what the definition of insanity is? Insanity is doing the exact same ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ thing over and over again, expecting ♥♥♥♥ to change. That. Is. Crazy.

I don't believe in monsters, unless they're people.

Anything in life worth doing is worth overdoing. Moderation is for cowards.

Ich bin so desinteressiert, ♥♥♥♥♥, meine Nackenmuskeln kommen vom Achselzucken.

If that's true... If you don't know who I am, then... maybe your best course would be to tread lightly.

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Leave a comment on my profile as to why you add me.

Well, unless you want to be blocked, that is.

Looking to trade? Send me a trade offer .

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I didn't accept your friend request - why?

Your profile is private.

Your inventory is private.

You have a VAC ban.
No, I couldn't care less in which game you were VAC'ed. Except if you're game banned in Lost Ark for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Unfortunately their customer support eats a bag of ♥♥♥♥♥ every morning and are as helpful as windscreen wipers on a submarine.

You have a low Steam level. No time for smurfs or alts.

I don't like you. For whatever reason. It's nothing personal, I don't like anybody.

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Is any of it real? I mean, look at this. Look at it! A world built on fantasy! Synthetic emotions in the form of pills, psychological warfare in the form of advertising, mind-altering chemicals in the form of food, brainwashing seminars in the form of media, controlled isolated bubbles in the form of social networks. Real? You want to talk about reality? We haven’t lived in anything remotely close to it since the turn of the century. We turned it off, took out the batteries, snacked on a bag of GMOs while we tossed the remnants in the ever-expanding dumpster of the human condition. We live in branded houses trademarked by corporations built on bipolar numbers jumping up and down on digital displays, hypnotizing us into the biggest slumber mankind has ever seen. You have to dig pretty deep, kiddo, before you can find anything real. We live in a kingdom of ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥, a kingdom you’ve lived in for far too long. So don’t tell me about not being real. I’m no less real than the ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ beef patty in your Big Mac.

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