He can keep telling himself that it's the algorithm. The reality is that nobody wants to watch a greasy faggot seething about things they know nothing about and making lamest jokes you can imagine.
I assume he sees the decrease in viewership is much greater than the decrease in subscriptions to his channel and assumes the YouTube algorithm is suppressing his channel. In reality, YouTube either really doesn't want you unsubscribing for the sake of internal metrics or really doesn't want you to know how many of the videos in your feed are stuff they're pushing on you, because videos that show up in your feed have a menu option that lets you not receive videos from that channel in your feed, but never gives you an option to unsubscribe from the channel. This is why Nick's subscriber count will never go to zero.
Karen Read Stream Day 32 - Rekieta Notables (no thumbnail at time of posting so here's this, again)
You will never be Billy Mitchell. You have no restaurant, you have no hot sauce, you have no Donkey Kong records. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and narcissism into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even addicts who “pass” as sober look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your blue fingers are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of April's diseased, infected axe wound.
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 an etched photograph of a Balldo, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know an impotent cuck is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a silicone rubber cage for your balls.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
