i am perfectly fine with having other people sit on my lap but i can’t sit on other people’s laps because i’m always paranoid that i’d crush them and they’d diE
If I was a famous author I would publish a book with ten different endings which all went to print with varying degrees of rarity, but not tell the fans about it so that I could watch their confusion as they disagree over how the story ended. Then when they figured it out I would ‘come clean’, telling them that I had released eleven alternate endings and watch them panic again as they all try to find the last ending.
This is perfect.
on the outside I may appear like an emotionless sarcastic piece of shit but just like an onion when you peel off more layers you find the exact same thing every single time and you start crying