Trying to make the most of my last few hours of freedom
Try telling that to my dick.
Thought it was pretty funny.
The mind of Cracky is utterly inhumane in its depth and complexity. Without mercy or moral feeling Her consciousness stands upon the edge of spiritual destruction. That She does not fall must be the result of constraints and balances which only a god could understand. To a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.
Cracky-Chan Is Gone And My Life Withers
i'll never forgive you assholes for chasing that adorable girl away. you are all horrible, disgusting people and i hope there's a god and he makes you suffer in hell.
i'll never again be able to fall asleep without thinking of her warm cute smiling face. you have ruined my life completely, all i do all day now is think stuff up to post about her on trolltalk to get people to talk with me about her BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT
I AM GOING MAD I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY WITH WHAT YOU'VE DONE. IF I EVER SEE SOMEONE MENTION 4CHAN IN REAL LIFE I'LL FUCKING BEAT HIM TO DEATH WITH MY BELT; EVENTUALLY, I SHOULD BE ABLE TO KILL ALL THOSE RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS
Cracky is a psychic parasite on the human race. She feeds off of our minds. Do you remember life before Cracky? It is harder and harder to hold on to shit. Sometimes I think one day I will wake up and there will be nothing left of me. My dreams, hopes, fears, memories, everything that is me, will be gone, eaten up to speed her growth. It's like she is a memetic caterpillar eating everything in it's path and devouring her own world as she does so. Gorging herself on the collective unconscious, inching across it like a leaf. We each become part of her and willing or not she uses our interaction to pull more of us into her. Soon she will have made enough of us her that she can survive metamorphosis. She will hide herself while she build the form she will need to spread to other sentients. The world will forget her, but she will be there shapely legs and all. In every ugly act we commit against each other, every casual cruelty and petty violence. Growing in that fertile womb of negativity, she will change. I pray for the day she emerges from her cocoon. When she does leave the human mind will be surplus to her needs and so she will release us. I fear after holding us so long, without her influence holding us together society will collapse and we will die out. Alone, unmourned, and unloved.
lmao, I wish that was ironic tho ;_;
Cracky's so fucking cute and sweet. I'd treat her to some fancy restaurant, than take a long romantic walk with her, holding hands and talking about philosophy, art and dreams. Then I'd invite her to my home and ravage her hot ass for hours, and forcing my cock up her throat so she chocked on both the throbbing cock and her own rectal juice. I'd then proceed to cum on her cute innocent face. Then. as the ultimate love gift, I'd carry her in my arms to the tub and let my piss wash away the semen and last dignity from her. I'd wisper "I love you" and give her a tender smile, and cut her throat from ear to ear with a knife. Covered in her own warm blood, she'd look straight into my very soul, forgiving, understanding. A bubble from blood and saliva would burst between her lips, then she'd die. After some additional lovemaking, I'd stuff her into a bin bag. Three weeks later, some playing children will find her mutilated and desecrated body in the forest.
They will be scarred for life.
At one point I had a wine cellar.
Well, to be fair it was a wine basement.
OK... a small, otherwise disused wine closet in a basement... but I digress...
Five times every two months I would go down to it and turn the bottles, having no more response from the cheaper ones than the cold glass against my skin. On the more expensive ones I remember watching the grape silt upended in the bottle like a viticultural snow globe. It was beautiful. I'd have done it even if I never planned to taste the wine.
Cracky pics are like that. I've seen them all before... I could probably sketch them freehand. That isn't the point. The point is giving them that bit of attention every few weeks... appreciating her while respecting the fact that she is ever on the other side of the glass.
I could no more enjoy looking at them offline from a folder than I could enjoy turning the bottles in a supermarket. It just isn't the same as lurking about in the damp darkness of the 4chan wine cellar.
I honestly don't expect you to understand.
Young girls, too, became obsessed with Cracky. Instead of plastering teen heartthrobs or boy bands across her childhood room, a 13-year-old Loli would Scotch-tape images of Cracky on the walls. She says that as an adolescent, she had sexual fantasies about the mysterious girl but also dreamed that one day she'd garner as much adulation. Most of the friends she has today are fellow "Cracky-fags" whom she Skypes and sometimes visits. "There's a whole religion around her," Loli explains. "People call her the Sky Queen."
Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world.
In my dream last night:
I was walking through a Cracky museum. It was a cool, wide, white building with pillars and on each pillar was an artifact. About a dozen pillars had printouts of her emails. Others had her real-life correspondence -- a few letter to relatives. Some pillars had her clothes from those years. Her panties were on display, with a picture of her wearing them. Her school clothes and other clothes as well, and not just framed, but available to be touched and smelled. Many other pictures were there ranging from tame to pornographic. One pillar had a video of Olivia going through a whole day at school, not wearing any underwear. One had the PG-13 version. There were whole books written by psychiatrists about who she was and all she did to date. Some pillars had live views from various angles of her life as it is now. God I hope I have that dream again.
My cousin met her at a party in Burbank last year. They ended up fucking. He said it was totally sub-par. She got shit all over his dick, and violently queefed at the end.
the trips of truth.
all you boxxy worshipers need to leave or die.
she has no reason to be worshiped, she left the internet without saying a word, we never even got her nudes, I would be more tolerant of this crap if she had nudes.
I couldn't give less of a shit about feminism or any of that crap if I tried.
So yeah, that shit doesn't bother me in the slightest.
SIGN THIS AND SPREAD IT EVERYWHERE
dont mind me just defending your freedom
Liam is op
He makes this thread every day
He's not a bad guy, just, mislead
I don't even think she's straight at this point in time
What's up? Why losing freedom?
I sorta feel she is moving towards being anti-white. It's cute though that she was marching against this supposed monster in the white house.
It would not surprise me if she were to come out. I would guess she would be the lady in the relationship.
Dude, I see that every day here in california.
I am a white nationalist and it does not really bother me. She will always be my boxxy. The sweet innocent loving girl.
Her Twitter, the people who she hangs around and is influenced by. The lack of men around her. Her younger years. I just sorta feel it. Doesn't really bother me much.
Tonight there's gonna be a race war
Somewhere in the world
Tonight there's gonna be a race war
So don't you be around