Got an 8 piece boneless strips. 4 honey chipotle, 4 chile lime and a fries. My stomach is gonna do back flips here in a moment after I slam my second tall Stella. God willing would let me sink into this despair and let me be forgotten

Hey buddy, you delivered some gay porn to my profile but I didn't order that. You're gonna have to come take back your gay porn because I don't want it. Gay porn isn't my jam, kemosabe.

The days blur together now, with nothing here but the waves, the sand, and Monkey Ball. My old life, my old worries—they’ve faded, replaced by the single-minded pursuit of perfection in this game. I’m convinced I’m the best; if anyone else were here, they’d see it, too. I’ve mastered every level, every turn, until the boundaries of the game and reality start to merge. I talk to the screen like it’s listening, daring it to challenge me with something I can’t beat. The island means nothing to me anymore—only the game does. Someday, someone will find me here, a legend, the undisputed master of Monkey Ball.

Today I slipped up again. I had a bottle of pills in my bag—ones that aren’t mine—and took one to take the edge off before the usual water cooler chat. It worked for a bit; I felt more at ease and even looked forward to the rigatoni I packed for lunch. But as it started to wear off, so did that calm, replaced by the familiar guilt and the nagging thought that maybe my coworkers know more than they’re letting on. It’s hard carrying this secret, and it’s only getting harder to hide.

+rep
+rep nice profile
+rep too much cash
+rep absolute
+rep very nice and non-toxic player
+rep egoist
+rep psycho
+rep good player
+rep gg wp
+rep Insane
+rep top rifler
+rep kind person
+rep I like you

me too man