No, you’re not real. You’re disgusting. You’re a piece of nothing that sits at a computer chair and cries all day, knowing they won’t be as good as the people they find on the internet. And while sobbing your heart out, you try to bring them down by sending them a pussy excuse for a hate message in hopes they’ll pity you.

But I don’t pity you. I don’t feel bad at all. Because you’re nothing to me. I’m going to be happy. I’m going to live life, and be happy, and deal with real people who aren’t like you. And you’re going to like it.