Stray Sheep - tranny autistic from tumblr that loves horsecock and is triggered by this title

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Okay folks, I think I'm done posting in here tonight.

Our new friend Kayla has made it perfectly clear that she has absolutely zero interest in actually listening to what people are saying, unless it's more fuel for her tumblr-esque sperging about how absolutely nothing in her life is her fault and that everyone/everything else is to blame. By all means, continue to chimp out when people are actually trying to get you help. It's not often that the farms offers guidance and suggestions, but its become perfectly clear that you're too fucking dense and wrapped up in this fantasy world that you have created for yourself online.

You claim that Tumblr, of all the places that exist on the world wide web, is your safe haven? How deep does this delusion run, that you have somehow managed to convince yourself of such a blatant fallacy. Tumblr is anything but a 'safe space', it is an abhorrently toxic community of people that live in their own delusional communities and merely circle-jerk one another off to make themselves feel better because there's others that somehow 'know their pain' and share their delusions in kind.

And that right there, is what depresses me the most. Many of us get a good laugh out of the insanity that Tumblr spews forth, but what I've seen tonight from you is just depressing, far beyond most others in a great deal of time. Because each and every time that someone opens the door to offer ways to help you, offer assistance, going well beyond what they have any reason to do, to try and help you. And what do you do? You just continue to cry and scream injustice, throwing a temper tantrum like a spoiled brat who had her favorite toy taken away from her.

These people owe you nothing, but here they are, trying to help.

But by all means, keep on Tumblr'ing on, it seems to be the only thing you're good at; excluding deluding yourself.
 
You can buy Confederate Flags at the flag shop at the mall.
Brace yourself: This isn't exclusive to the South. I can go to my local malls and find Confederate Flags, and I live a stone's throw away from Canada.


Why is my room any of your concern.
Just clean your damn room, already.

How is leaking my family's personal info helpful in any way.
That was stuff that you had on your Facebook page publicly for others to see in the first place.
How is it considered "leaking" if it's publicly available information? If I posted a picture of my tramp stamp and my boss saw it, it would be my own damn fault for putting it up online. How the hell did you get this far and not figure that one out?

Actually, my Facebook was set to private until Facebook fucked up their security shit.
You're still a lying liar who lies. Seriously, I've had the same Facebook account since 2007, and it's still been private - without interruption - since then. Even if this was the case, don't blame Facebook for your absolute inability to keep your private life private. Have some fucking self-regulation.

No, I don't actually have a tramp stamp, before anyone asks.
 
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@Stray Sheep, I'm going to risk my power level a little to tell you a story about a guy who has been in a psych ward and had people get their parents to intervene.

I was taken by my mother on the advice of a therapist to a hospital with a psychiatric hold facility with other people in a similar position. Aside from giving me something to help me sleep because I was too jittery to calm down enough to do so, I was otherwise left to myself. While I was there, I mostly was given an opportunity to unwind, away from technology and actually having nothing but a few paperback books and a soft pen and some paper to work with, so while I was there, I generally allowed the medication to chill me out while I wrote about how I was feeling and caught up on the latest John Grisham novel.

By the time it was over, I was sent home with a temporary prescription, then I went to our local mental health center, was prescribed a treatment based on the observations of how I acted while in the psych ward, and since that time, my depression and other issues have been carefully monitored and I have received all sorts of help with everything, including transportation, finding work, other social services that could help me, and I even got in touch with other people like myself via those sessions.

The end result was me, who is now happy, well adjusted, reasonably stable, on a medication and therapy regimen that keeps me living a reasonably happy and prosperous life, and I'm all the better for it.

I won't lie, I didn't LIKE being the psych ward, brief though my stay was, but was never mistreated or abused, and I left much saner and calmer.

Basically, as someone who has been there, I can say you won't regret going, it started me on the road to getting the help I needed, and I've never looked back on that with regret.
My god. That power level...
image.jpg
 
Yeah, sorry for powerleveling a little bit in this thread/the Springtrapp thread. I just have too much experience with this kind of sad-ass "I'm going to use my potential mental illness as an excuse to be completely insufferable!" shit among past friends, and I've been effortposting a little in hope that it might help? But it ain't gonna help, so whatever.

This fanfic is thoroughly mediocre, in case anyone was wondering. I can't even get upset about it. It's just boring.
 
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I said that I was done, but this right here...

You use tumblr as a COPING mechanism?!

That's like shooting heroin because you're all out of weed.
How the fuck is that the right decision to make?
 
Tumblr threads always bring out people's "let me tell you my life story and why I am better than this lolcow" urges. It's really lame.
Yeah seriously. instead of the message to Kayla I feel more like we should have one telling permanently for ballpit that says STOP REVEALING YOUR POWERLEVEL.
 
Anyways, I've waited long enough and it's clear my parents don't give a shit about some stalker creeps trying to talk to them. My mom would have called me downstairs or my dad would have texted or called at this point and, surprise, none of the above has happened. I'm gonna go do some more interesting shit now that I know I'm safe.
Have you considered maybe your parents don't want you around, would be glad to see you gone, and no longer care how that goal is accomplished?
 
@Stray Sheep You claim to be a good writer but you don't even do a paragraph break when a new character is speaking. I don't know how much your journalism class taught you about writing but this is very basic stuff. Also your writing is fucking boring.

Bring on those autistic ratings.

I think you're a little too cool for 'tism ratings. Will an inappropriate feels work?
 
Brace yourself: This isn't exclusive to the South. I can go to my local malls and find Confederate Flags, and I live a stone's throw away from Canada.

Pretty funny Kayla says that like it's a bad thing too.

Everyone knows that the Confederacy was right and Lincoln was a race-traitor.

Kayla, I suggest you read the excellent book "Cannibals All!" by the intellectual scholar George Fitzhugh, it will clear up a lot of your misconceptions.

Sic semper tyrannis.
 
Yeah, sorry for powerleveling a little bit in this thread/the Springtrapp thread. I just have too much experience with this kind of sad-ass "I'm going to use my potential mental illness as an excuse to be completely insufferable!" shit among past friends, and I've been effortposting a little in hope that it might help? But it ain't gonna help, so whatever.

This fanfic is thoroughly mediocre, in case anyone was wondering. I can't even get upset about it. It's just boring.

I found my favorite part:

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LOL

I think you're a little too cool for 'tism ratings. Will an inappropriate feels work?

Aw, psshaw. :oops:

Nobody is too cool for autistic ratings.

:heart-empty:
 
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