You, Hennerz, are the sort of person who would think that 2+2=5. The kind of person who would say “I Promise” then not deliver. A Paranoid Android, if you will. It’s because of you that I’m scared to get in the Lift. I know what you’re thinking, Inster what’s happened, you’re normally so Optimistic! To which I say, make that Present Tense. I am optimistic still, that just Like Spinning Plates Hennerz will do a full 360 and, like a Jigsaw Falling Into Place, return to his cool gamer self. However, this could just be me Daydreaming. Maybe Hennerz will remain as he is, leaving me High & Dry. I fear I’d be labelled a Creep if I was to know the future, and for this exact reason I don’t, although I do like the idea of knowing everything, as there would be No Surprises. However, I think if I was to learn how to do something, it’d be How To Disappear Completely. I know that those of you who know me well will be thinking “Come on Inster, you’re a pure romantic. Surely you’d want to find true love soon?” To which I respond, “I don’t need it soon. I know that True Love Waits, and will only reveal itself once the world has put Everything In Its Right Place”. As for now, the lovely community of HarrysMod is All I Need, and I couldn’t care less about people who are more concerned with buying Fake Plastic Trees from Ikea to put in their living rooms then they are engaging with the people around them. They’re the sort of people that, were there such thing as a Karma Police force, would be arrested in an instant. The type of person who would rather record something and put it on Videotape then enjoy and experience it properly. Their social media may portray them as somewhat of a perfect Lotus Flower, however realistically they are no better than dandelions. I Just wish they would live their life rather then record it. The type of person who will have no musical talent yet believe that “Anyone Can Play Guitar”, who would rather wear Bishops Robes made of holly leaves then a comfortable outfit on discount. The type who tend to Bloom around those just like them, who would never a meal as common as Bangers + Mash. Coke Babies, I tend to call them. More interested in their Dollars and Cents then just relaxing in the car to the latest episode of Desert Island Discs. The ones who would never go to Thorpe Park without the ability to Fast-Track. The type who believe that they are living in House of Cards, and don’t appreciate their experiences. Who’d sooner read How I Made My Millions then something with content. Who constantly act as if they live Life in a Glasshouse. Who won’t let their throats receive the Lozenge of Love. Who are too cool to listen to a Motion Picture Soundtrack. Who truly have a mindset of “Nothing Touches Me!” Who waltz past life with a Pearly smile, always asking people “How will you Prove Yourself?” The Seperator of class in society. Always trying to climb the Staircase and ascend higher above others, but never managing. Who never experience the classic stalling and self-muttering of Stupid Car. Who throw a Sulk when they don’t get their way. Who’d kill to be anywhere near a Talk Show Host. Who never care for their friends, not even with a There There. No, they aren’t Thinking About You. They just want to be Up On The Ladder, eating their Vegetable-based meals and howling about how You Never Wash Up After Yourself like A Wolf At The Door. I remember, once, I actually responded. “I’m going to kill you and all else who oppose me.” “Oh are you?” They replied. “Yes I am”. I defiantly replied once more. “You and Whose Army?” They uttered back. And it is this sort of person who must be stopped. We cannot allow this behaviour to continue, Ful Stop. I urge you, if you are this type of person, please, Come to Your Senses. You’re Riding a Bullet Skirting on the Surface of some highly explosive shit, and not even caring like some sort of mindless Slave. Cut a Hole in the system and break free. Summon your inner Street Spirit, and you can escape.
@Soldier_Boy A Reminder that if you aren’t happy with this, there’ll be A Punchup at a Wedding, namely yours, you Scatterbrain. I’ll tear out your spine like a Ripcord.