â„–2569969[Quote]
I am writing this as a public service announcement carved out of my remaining nerve endings. Let my words stand like scorched bones by the roadside. Do not go where I went. Do not click what I clicked. Do not feed your hours into that blinking, grinning abyss of a website that promised meaning and delivered only the slow, enthusiastic dismantling of my soul.
It began, as all catastrophes do, with curiosity. A harmless scroll. A "just five minutes." The site greeted me like a carnival barker with a doctorate in despair-bright colors, clever hooks, infinite doors. It said Here, you can be everything. What it meant was Here, you will be nothing, efficiently.
Every click was a tiny mortgage on my future. Every refresh shaved a millimeter off my patience, my memory, my capacity to feel anything other than a dull, buzzing contempt. The site never slept. It breathed. It pulsed. It learned me. It learned my weak spots the way rot learns wood. I didn't use it; it used me, hollowed me out, then invited me to admire the echo.
I thought I was gathering information. What I was actually collecting were reasons to sneer at the world. Hot takes stacked on lukewarm opinions stacked on reheated outrage, all served with the confidence of prophecy. The comments-oh, the comments-were a gladiator pit where empathy went to be flayed alive for sport. I entered with nuance. I left with claws.
Days dissolved. Nights curdled. Time stopped being a river and became a drain. I would look up, blinking, as if waking from anesthesia, and realize hours had been filched from me by an algorithm wearing a party hat. The site promised connection but delivered a crowd that made loneliness louder. It promised truth but trafficked in certainty, that cheap, addictive certainty that feels like wisdom until you notice it never builds anything-only burns.
And what did it leave me? Not insight. Not joy. Not even a decent story. It left me tired. Tired in the marrow. Tired in the way old houses are tired-full of drafts and strange noises and a sense that something foundational has cracked. It trained my attention to flinch. It taught my hope to whisper apologies. It made cynicism feel like intelligence and bitterness feel like armor.
Worst of all, it convinced me this was all there is. That everything meaningful has already been mocked to death, that sincerity is cringe, that trying is embarrassing, that caring is a rookie mistake. It laughed while it did this. It thrived on it.
So hear me now, you bright-eyed passerby with your cursor hovering and your heart still mostly intact: take this as a warning. There are places online that don't just waste your time-they metabolize your spirit. They won't stab you. They'll starve you. Slowly. Politely. With endless updates.
Close the tab. Touch something real. Speak to a human who can interrupt you. Read something that doesn't want to own you. Walk away while walking away still feels possible.
I stayed too long. I am proof of concept.
â„–2569972[Quote]
Chatgpt ahhh
â„–2569973[Quote]
ai coal
â„–2569978[Quote]
@grok what does this mean?
â„–2569980[Quote]
>>2569972>>2569973>>2569978May the jannies have mercy upon your souls. The mods wont be so kind.
â„–2569996[Quote]
>>2569985Is that an acronym for the forbidden game
â„–2569997[Quote]
>>2569984Please let this be a warning, I would rather spend 20 years in the Mumbai Insane Asylum if it meant I would have never discovered this accursed site.
â„–2570000[Quote]
>>2569997I jacked off to you
â„–2570008[Quote]
>>2569996It's for raisin nobody cares about
â„–2570009[Quote]
>>2570000Your stay here only has two endings, either you die first or live long enough to become the thing you hate.
â„–2570010[Quote]
>>2569997Nah this site lowkenuinely funny
â„–2570013[Quote]
>>2569969 (OP)Hey Rolf do you know anywhere that is hiring? I have all my paperwork sorted but I keep getting ghosted when I apply to places.
â„–2570016[Quote]
Too long i won't read
â„–2570020[Quote]
>>2570010This is what you thing at first, but soon you will realize that this will become the greatest mistake of your life.
â„–2570023[Quote]
>>2570013Where did you apply (in what field of work)?
â„–2570025[Quote]
>>2570020Eh I've made worse mistakes
â„–2570029[Quote]
>>2570025Believe me this one is worse.
â„–2570035[Quote]
>>2570029Maybe for you
The key is to not use it very often
â„–2570059[Quote]
>>2569984your name is the name of my favourite chant, curious
â„–2570061[Quote]
>>2570059yeah something like that
â„–2570067[Quote]
>>2570063no youre obsessed with me o algo
â„–2570078[Quote]
>>2570023Any, but preferably seasonal right now o algo
â„–2570208[Quote]
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
â„–2570211[Quote]
>I am writing this as a public service announcement carved out of my remaining nerve endings. Let my words stand like scorched bones by the roadside. Do not go where I went. Do not click what I clicked. Do not feed your hours into that blinking, grinning abyss of a website that promised meaning and delivered only the slow, enthusiastic dismantling of my soul.
>
>It began, as all catastrophes do, with curiosity. A harmless scroll. A "just five minutes." The site greeted me like a carnival barker with a doctorate in despair-bright colors, clever hooks, infinite doors. It said Here, you can be everything. What it meant was Here, you will be nothing, efficiently.
>
>Every click was a tiny mortgage on my future. Every refresh shaved a millimeter off my patience, my memory, my capacity to feel anything other than a dull, buzzing contempt. The site never slept. It breathed. It pulsed. It learned me. It learned my weak spots the way rot learns wood. I didn't use it; it used me, hollowed me out, then invited me to admire the echo.
>
>I thought I was gathering information. What I was actually collecting were reasons to sneer at the world. Hot takes stacked on lukewarm opinions stacked on reheated outrage, all served with the confidence of prophecy. The comments-oh, the comments-were a gladiator pit where empathy went to be flayed alive for sport. I entered with nuance. I left with claws.
>
>Days dissolved. Nights curdled. Time stopped being a river and became a drain. I would look up, blinking, as if waking from anesthesia, and realize hours had been filched from me by an algorithm wearing a party hat. The site promised connection but delivered a crowd that made loneliness louder. It promised truth but trafficked in certainty, that cheap, addictive certainty that feels like wisdom until you notice it never builds anything-only burns.
>
>And what did it leave me? Not insight. Not joy. Not even a decent story. It left me tired. Tired in the marrow. Tired in the way old houses are tired-full of drafts and strange noises and a sense that something foundational has cracked. It trained my attention to flinch. It taught my hope to whisper apologies. It made cynicism feel like intelligence and bitterness feel like armor.
>
>Worst of all, it convinced me this was all there is. That everything meaningful has already been mocked to death, that sincerity is cringe, that trying is embarrassing, that caring is a rookie mistake. It laughed while it did this. It thrived on it.
>
>So hear me now, you bright-eyed passerby with your cursor hovering and your heart still mostly intact: take this as a warning. There are places online that don't just waste your time-they metabolize your spirit. They won't stab you. They'll starve you. Slowly. Politely. With endless updates.
>
>Close the tab. Touch something real. Speak to a human who can interrupt you. Read something that doesn't want to own you. Walk away while walking away still feels possible.
>
>I stayed too long. I am proof of concept.
â„–2570221[Quote]
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf
I am Rolf, son of Rolf, of the most ancient and puissant House of Rolf