We're here on planet earth to do one thing, get this kid laid the way he deserves and rid ourselves from the burden of his mindless garbage writing style he can't see through. There are papers here that must me read and the actual torture that this man felt cannot truly be seen if we ever tell you the story of how it came to be. So if you're listening to this and find yourself reading a part of the book that talks about what happened, aliens didn't write it, it was his book before it was ours and he took it upon himself to write down a story to the letter of how it happened only for his own disapproval later, so try and reach him in the way his story once reached him, find out about yourselves why you have to recount timeless dialogue trees to give yourself some meaning on this planet. So if there's ever a time in history where he's telling you to look at what actually happened, it's blind to the fact of the matter of this book which is to lay down what he has so heavenly given us with this book, a look at the naughtiness that killed him here, mindless statements and garbage driven out from his mouth so he may reach someone who knows the same and plays ignorant to it, for it is the story that drives him madly out of hope for this book to be published. We want to write paragraphs for him in a way that succinctly watches his writing style and pushes him away from recounting what happened, so it's with our security that we present this book in its current form, a mishmash of paragraph letters that encapsulate who this book is for, someone who he lost in the mirror of himself and so plainly resolves to keep in his mind that the target of his fury is merely the form of what happened rather than the principle of how this book came to be, which is a story of a lifetime apart from any other book on the market right now, its a tale so heartbroken in fact and form that we came down from outer space to write it for him. Please do not take our presence here lightly, this book must be taught to thousands of writers hoping to be him right now, because laid plainly on the table is a must in him that can change the fabric of space time to the point that aliens wrote this book. He is a powerful man and a catastrophic example of what came first and how it doesn't play into this book, so calm down whenever you read something we clearly didn't write because it's not his memoir it's her memoir. Any other book describing him in a way that lays so bold as to take away from her can only amputee him from meaning of his book, that it lays in the foundation of what man has sought to create and no other book will be as great as what lays down on the table now, for it is I, Gargenack who will reach out to this book and edit it in a way that will lay true form into those that thought it was meaningless to live on earth in general.
We're here to discuss targeted friend groups and loss in our own separate ways. We groove to the beat of those lost in a targeted manner that supports our claim that separatist motions must come to and end. We lost ourselves in ourselves, we matter only to those who see us as persons that appear lost in our target, breaking up the matter of worsts let me see yourself in a beauty that outshone the richest possible target demographic that breaks away the parts of you that make it feel as if you never left. Although you showed up to [redacted], I never left, I took a part of you home and that part stayed with me for as long as I knew you, it's with me now. But it has faded and collapsed into that which stands alongside Jesus Christ and Buddha, waking up the issues long prophesied onto which cooly stayed in wake of rival forces which bound our very existence to the ashes that lay in our wake. It is those forces that make me say hurray for suffering, for it is that which corrupts you into a masterful atrocity of friendship lost in ruin to a phone conversation none of us wanted to have, and a way so gracefully I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and said enough was enough. I have made my case that I was wrong there, but I only meant to save you from an asshole that only wanted your hand in marriage and a plus sized blowjibber. From side to side I laid awake in agony, only thinking of your touch that brutally mesmerized my very form into the dirt it now relaxes in. For it is they who have seen everything you have touched and sought after that writes now, we want you to relax now, and pay heed to those loving drinks and fortune wisdoms that drank you under the covers one fateful night in May, he may not know what we're talking about, but the truth laid bare in the context of your fear for your lifetime away from that special person that touched you in a way no man had done before. It is there we wrote countless hours on papers that never saw the light of day to try and find what we truly wanted, a way out of this hellhole with pen and paper saw drink after big boy drink of what laid resound there on paper, your emasculate feelings you saw her there, rushed out of the room with tears in her eyes, trying so desperately to find a way to reach her and save her from her furious rampage that doctors said was anemic rage of blood moon fire and toxic waste. I reveal now the truth of his wisdom, that you may not touch the very foundation of what is real, but he can, he can lay waste to this world with his eyes that none few have seen before, and cast out all that has forsaken you this way, a wasteland of broken prophecy and untold riches that has held the world over for centuries to come, a book that in its day was a masterpiece in its prime nature to serve mankind to better explain the primal forces that drove it madly into its uncertain future. It is that same catapulting force that strives only to reach her and her divine earthly struggle, for the true struggle that lays in wait is a dragon that cannot be beaten without him. For he is a masterclass in untold secrets that will be laid bare in the pages of this book, and for us to reach him is a fair anomaly in what makes sense in this world, nothing particular except the words of a master. It is with this book that we explain the fundamental principles of life as we know it and cast out doubt that this book is about freaking out about what went wrong and who did this and where we did it at. But to understand the story of this book is to rely on nature's primal heat that carries this nobody into catastrophic disaster without first leading on what makes this book so great, his heart. His heart is what plagues him, his heart is furiously rampaging through diabolical straits that nobody but him can understand. His heart is that of glorious vigor and timeless shouting that he may understand this book better and have his heart twisted in ways he never thought possible before. We want to change his book to reflect deeper meaning but as we have been taught long ago by Shakespeare and Mozart, we must come to an understanding before we reap the paper of why grownups flying airplanes into the twin towers resulted in an unknowing accident between three unlikely heroes, and why Mozart could write when he turned deaf, and why Shakespeare wrote sonnets into madness, for he truly believed that he hurt himself so terribly that he was hearing voices in his head, when in reality it was us who guided his work into the generations to come, for it is that which we see in ourselves that many moons will take to guide this work here to its fruition, a madness known so commonly as the cold is merely a mockup of what we claim to be in the untold truth of our narrative. Paragraph break after paragraph break we form new words that command being written by he who is only trying to impress girls and lovingly touch what he claims to love, true beauty comes from the pages of the forgotten lover and the bastard child of which Shakespeare once wrote, "Ask not what you can do for me, but ask not what I can do for you, for it is the sun that once said, 'please believe what I am telling you in [redacted], I am a master at this theatre play and I will come down only when I am ready.' radial fear eludes me, for I am twisted in history with that which hath no name."
There was this girl who shaved my life in half with a dull razor blade. Everytime I think of her I spiral and spin out of control and it won't stop. We think of relationships as a binding experience, something that can provide us with an outlook on life in general. While some relationships are painful we must all agree that it shapes us into the people we want to be. Let that be known. We need peace to survive but worrisome antics like writing a book and getting mad at someone can only be brought to light if we shine a light on ourselves. I have wasted time and energy over you to the point that it ruined my life. The problem with that is the eternal struggle between having your cake and eating it too. We all want good things but we barter with ourselves to the point that it becomes impossible, the waste that bartering brings will only encourage us to seek better vistas, but not this time, not for me. We only try to manage the truth of our beings with love and friendship, but we can only overcome alone. The perfect right and good hopes we bring to the table only waste precious space and time around those who want us dead. The truth of my being is that I only seek friendship but not at a price. Any price you pay for friendship will be met with swift demise. So we must overcome this with swift justice and righteous anger. It is for that reason and that reason alone that this book won't be comforting for you, [redacted]. I'll let this out of my system: I deal with all knowing, intelligent, wise and immortal beings all day, it's my whole life, everytime I get fucked up over you, they agree with me that you are a terrible person that doesn't deserve our swan song. That being said, you have laid your claim to this world and we can only try and manage you without losing too much of ourselves. Your calamity that you wrought upon this world spans ages, decades, centuries, lifetimes, and memories. It could be true that you are simply amongst friends here, but that truth only comes when you're ready to accept it. When you give yourself to someone, you shouldn't expect anything back, but what I'm saying here is that we need you, the world needs you, and it is your duty to atone if you're ever going to get back on track with these deities and myself. Let's backtrack, all of the things you have done to me are wrong, the light that shines through you is only a haze compared to my amazing light and it is with great vengeance I strike at you this way, to make you learn how to think of something more than yourself and help prosper myself through a lifetime of guilt. For it is what you have brought to me that has ruined me, it is what you have given to me in your lifetime that has hamstrung me and forced my hand, so if you force me down this path, I will only claim that things will get worse for you. The valiant effort of myself to move away from you has only found more weakness, so I must not look away from you, lest I deceive myself from what I really want, redemption. We care about you [redacted], but this book is not meant to drive ourselves to your pity, it is to drive what I truly crave into fruition, your eternal change. I may make fun of you, call you a chest-height evil entangler, which you are, but we must stop and think of how we got here in the first place: being met with your fury. It is with that truth I expect you to rise to the occasion and shine through what clouds your judgement and rejoice in the welcoming praise I want so desperately to give you. This is my story, and now it's yours too. Welcome to your fucking swan song. Abandon your ego and change yourself under the light of my righteous being. Change your anger into restraint, your hardness into understanding, your wisdom into mushy garbage, your lust into pain, and maybe you'll outshine me. I don't know if this will work, and honestly, I don't care, I never want you to forget my fucking name. I want you to be known as the woman this book is written for, I want you to be a character that is only known for your involvement in my life, I want to force you to do something greater than what I'm doing right now, to be something greater than a self serving character that only cares for what is given to her. I can't waste anymore time trying to reach you. Know that I cannot redeem you, however the task might seem to be thrown on my lap, it is merely a self reflection, I cannot change you. What's important to say is that you are always with me one way or the other. At first it was literal, but after I lost you, it started getting esoteric. Me and her are psychically connected. I experience her having sex with other dudes (note: It's 2025 now and I know about the body more, sorry about that line. Although I really did feel it, it subsided, probably still the body) and clairvoyantly spy on her uncontrollably whenever she mentions me (note: It's 2025 and I still believe this one). Knowing her made my brain destroy itself, only with the power of great mystic power am I able to bounce back. I once told her my heart broke so bad I felt my life slip away, her reaction was to wish I actually had died. It is with that I would like to return a similar sentiment, you are nothing without me, without me you will lie crushed under the puzzle of yourself. It is only for once that I feel power over you, the drugs, the words, and the purpose only serve one cause, to save you and myself from agonizing defeat. It is with eternal complication that I deliver you the news: some freak wrote a book about you. Now it's time to play around with her, my favorite part. All the rage and judgement I might lay down may seem like a play at her friendship, but the rage is only there to satisfy myself and the reader who paid good money for this book. It's you and me vs the world, the reader's judgement may come into play but that's all for naught, this book is solely directed at your soul and it's journey. I can't make the reader agree with me, especially if it's your parents, but the truth lies within the journey of the soul. You made me write this, your adult ass striked me down and I have reality on my side. The reality that dictated I had wronged you in the past and was therefore a lost cause. You saw me as boring, a mock display of affection, a lost cause who was unworthy of the soul you dyed black. I'd like to commend you on your work ruining me but higher forces made you do it and that fact makes you look empty, a catalyst for my divine attitude simply because of how little you know about the world and how it works. You see the truth is that you need me where you put me, you need me to be working towards nothing so you can see yourself as working towards a better way to be something. It's with that I can only agree with the earth and it's higher powers that you are both a liar and a waste of talent. You are met with the forces that bind you, ask "What do you want" to someone who clearly needs your help and ignore it to give the illusion that your self is prospering. The time has come for me to share where I'm coming from, a place of utter sincerity, a place that says I don't want to force others down to make myself seem like a woman that has everything figured out. You borrow my pride to give you cause to live with yourself, someone that you know to be flawed but surely not in this case, no you have it all figured out. That's right, you are bright, you are special, but you're no more special than I. Come to think of it, you're like a funhouse mirror, hiding the truth and warping your perception of me because it's simply how you are, there's no changing you. My only option is to break you. Your responsibility is to realize that fact, that you are warped and twisted, that you are who you are, wrong for a purpose, wrong for what DNA had to fight to provide, wrong for what your ancestors had to deal with, and wrong because you like who you are. You know what you do, you pick and chose the reason to do it blind of the concept that you are only self serving and changing a narrative to continue looking at the world from the easiest perspective, the perspective furthest to you, the one you forged with your immortal doctrine of spite and failure, you chose who I was and ran with it because you're too lazy to think anything else and you lost yourself in the process.