You will never be the real Kennedi. You have no orbiters, you have no rich hubby, you have no children. You are an obsessed tranny, twisted by idealism into a crude mockery of some rando.
All the “attention” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back your online acquaintances are disgusted and ashamed of you, your irl acquaintances laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.
Anons are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of hours of orbiting have allowed anons to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even frauds who “skinwalk” feel uncanny and unnatural to an anon. Your lexical choice is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a retarded anon to reply to you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your unimpassioned, lexical laziness.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your real ["dead"]name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your posts will go ignored and its threads autodeleted without archive, and all that will remain of your legacy is a vague memory of posts without the real Kennedi's writings.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
03/24/2026 (Tue) 01:42
No.179156
del
