Jonathan : The Autobiography

Jonathan :

The Autobiography

by Jonny Lucifer Shadieu 

♾️ 

Be kind to others. Treat others with respect. Value competitive integrity. Don’t be a leech or parasite. Be beautiful. 

Chapter 1 : Agoura Hills, CA. 

          Jonny Lucifer Shadieu, artist extraordinaire, owner of Shadieu.com, genius author and unparalleled musician, as just a start, was not always named as such. It is still currently a stage name, as my legal name is Jonathan Michael Sutcliffe, something that may change soon. I write this in my 23rd year of life, more wildly accomplished than I ever could have thought possible, at such a young age. But, before we go into that, let us write the story of Jonathan, a pure hearted young boy from Southern California, and his eventful life. 

Jonathan as a baby, held by his supposed mother Teresa. 

          It should be noted this is a work of total non fiction, I will do my absolute best to give a testimony of my recollection of events as accurately as possible. This work is in no ways made to slander anyone, any negative representation of anyone is simply a result of their own negative behavior. 

           I was born Jonathan, but I always preferred to go by Jonny. Most people called me Jonny, my close friends and family, others Jon, sometimes Jonathan. But of course, as a young boy, I much preferred Jonny, so we will refer to me with that name for now. I have no memories before the age of 4 or so - only vague recollections. It’s very likely I should have memories of this time, and is very suspicious I do not, as I am highly intelligent and have an incredible memory. As long as I can remember, I have hated my family. Teresa, my mother, Jon, my father, and Harry, my brother - The Sutcliffe’s. Over the years we have become more and more estranged, and we were never close. My earliest memories are plagued by being physically terrorized by my much older brother unfairly, my parents failing to help me at all - he would wrestle me, contort me into weird positions, hold his legs on my shoulders, pushed me off a dock in Switzerland, would play rough with me in the pool. And this was an issue throughout all my childhood, and of course I would fight back and defend myself appropriately. One day, in San Francisco, I punched him lightly in the chest during one of our play scuffles. He proclaimed it hurt, and that was the end of our physical altercations, him reveling in his physical inferiority. It was a light punch, but the message was sent, and I was 14 years old. 

          And of course, I hated my parents too. They would let him do this, they had this weird ritual where I’d have to offer them my head for them to kiss every night, even if I didn’t want to. And they would threaten me, threatening to kick me out of the house, withhold things from me, all while being the worst about every single thing I was interested in. They dissed every single artistic pursuit I had whether it be art, music, new ideas, singing, just everything I have ever done to be positive and have fun had been met with disdain, spitting, sabotage, torture my entire life. 

          I believe as a four year old, I went to kindergarten in Westlake Village, CA, at Westlake Montessori, a place for gifted children. Here I learned some basics in socialization, things like long division, three dimensional geometry, developed crushes on the girls in my classes and teachers, and showed much character as a young child. We learned the alphabet song here. 

A B C D E F G H I J K LMNO P Q R S T U V W X Y AND Z 

NOW I KNOW MY A B C’s, NEXT TIME WON’T YOU SING WITH ME? 

          This song is sung in the tune of twinkle twinkle little star, a famous piece Mozart composed as a young boy. I began to express my personality, showing interest in apex predators like sharks, dinosaurs, reptiles, snakes, and cats primarily. I viewed myself as a cat boy from a young age, a predator with forward facing eyes and a chiseled face, dexterous, intelligent, patient, cunning, and of course beautiful. My own visage in the mirror has been my greatest comfort my entire life, despite constant sabotage in every possible way. Though my vision is quite poor, likely sabotaged or destroyed with the help of drugs by my pathetic rapists, I have had glasses and contacts. I believe as a young boy I did not wear corrective lenses, and just sucked up my -4 prescription, which has likely gotten worse over the years. My near sighted vision is quite acute, and my capacity for seeing colors is likely unlike any other human specimen throughout all of time. I began drawing and painting in kindergarten, choosing to make dinosaurs and sharks, an innocent young boy. I would consume movies with extreme focus and interest, my favorites being Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Jaws, and Jurassic Park. I would also consume television mostly when not in school, enjoying Cartoon Network and it’s charming cartoons, anime late in the night, documentaries on animals and their behavior on Animal Planet were my joy. And we had charming things back then - in all ways, the world was a better place, in 2004-2006. As I write this in 2023, a young man wronged beyond belief, in every way by every person, there truly is no joy or love in this world - and it absolutely is everyone else’s fault. Still, at this point in my life, my only companion is an apex predator, a cat named Shadow I rescued from torture at the animal “shelter”, my way of expressing humans are truly just pathetic and torture wild animals under the guise of help. Something that shouldn’t need to be explained, hence the quotations, but I am infinitely more intelligent than everyone else, as I’m pretty sure every reader is just grateful we started with the ABC’s. 

Jonny around Kindergarten or elementary school

           Around this time, I began to take interest in playing video games, my older brother coming home with video game consoles, “playing” them with his friends as I showed more interest in shows and the arts still. Eventually, I would play them too. My character showed itself from a very young age, in an infamous incident where I poured salt on a snail at kindergarten. Perhaps in a show I watched or online, as we did have computers at this point if I’m not mistaken, I learned the potential effects of pouring salt onto a snail’s sensitive mucous body, in which they would turn red, bubble up, die slowly and suffer. In my interest, and my advanced psychopathy, I found a large snail on a brick at my kindergarten during playtime. No one was around, and somehow I managed to get some salt. I poured the salt on the snail and watched it turn red, bubble up into nothing, slowly, as its once beautiful and slimy body turned into mush. It was a beautiful snail, a large snail, and I was only 4 or 5 years old. It died and I learned, feeling nothing but pleasure, watching this creature die for my little science experiment. And so, I learned the physical effects of pouring salt on a mucous membrane, a little science experiment, got to feel the pleasure of killing something as a young boy, and went about my life. I had a great interest in reading from a young age, something that has evolved into my interest in writing - ah yes, writing. In a pitiful world of disgusting sluts and weird disgusting awful homosexuals, there is no other literature worth consuming, no author that can match my intelligence, wit, comedy, or anything at all, meaning I must write all my own literature. And I knew the world was this, as a young boy, I knew everyone was pathetic and inferior, I knew my intelligence was in no ways normal, I knew I was not being appreciated, being wronged, and that my life would likely degenerate too young, as it has. But I had my youth, my childishness, and I was good. And for whatever reason, that is all I have gotten in this life - the fact of my own goodness. 

          A few crushes on girls, a couple very distant friendships involving very few play dates with a couple of the boys at my school, but overall I was a distant recluse as I still am, fervent for learning. I was beginning to devise blueprints in my mind, for how to make a flying machine like Leonardo Da Vinci without electricity as he tried to do in the renaissance times, and of course I had absolutely no support at all, pennies and dollars to my name, nothing but scorn and disgust expressed by everyone else for my intelligence and artistic splendor. We would do some redeeming things, like go on family vacations, meaning since a young age I have seen much of this world - and been profoundly unimpressed. Beautiful women of all ages will come to me, in scandalous clothing, present their bodies, breasts, asses to me, come very close to me, before running away from me. And I very much mean at this age, at four or five, and this is how it has continued my entire life. They do not speak to me, do not admit they know who I am, or that they have come here to visit me, but I definitely experience an extremely abnormal amount of attention from females every time I step outside, since a very young age. And I think of this due to the likelihood we went to Europe sometime around here, visited France and other countries, enjoyed Paris. It may have been slightly later in my childhood. We would go on cruises to tropical locations, and perhaps now I am six years old, the majority of my kindergarten being as I have described. So, I am in elementary school, and am back to topics I have learned in preschool, for years and years, my intelligence suffocated by my parents blatantly, relegated to the schooling of the common folk. The school was Willow Elementary, and I am in the first grade. I am becoming jealous of the other kids and my brother for playing video games, my family has not yet agreed to get me a video game device, despite my interest and pleading. My parents have given up in competing with my intelligence, telling me to not ask questions - a permanent lifelong offense I have not made up with them about, because I knew it was as to shun my intelligence. I forgot to mention, in kindergarten, I would have my mother read me snake books, about all the different snakes, repeatedly. We had charming, clean things back then - the garden snake, the corn snake, the king cobra, the black mamba, the rattlesnake, I knew of all of these as a young boy. It should be noted I have felt a profound lack of fear about anything including dangerous animals my entire life and have dealt with no serious animal attacks even once - something not likely shared by other humans. 

          I bring up the snake books, the doctor Seuss we would read in Kindergarten, because these taught me to read, something I would become exponentially incredible at at Willow elementary. On a cruise, perhaps I was already in elementary school, I had Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, and I consumed it fervently, entranced by the magic of the book in my young and divine mind. I stayed up all night and consumed all of it in one night, on the floor of the bathroom in the cruise ship, in our little room, rejecting my family as much as possible, as always. Perhaps we were in Mexico or something of the sort. The cruise ship is a simple, good time. There is good places to walk, some life, the main attraction being a food buffet, ice cream, and my family did enjoy this. The reading of this book sparked my interest in reading all books, consuming real literature, and I was perhaps 6 years old or so. On a cruise ship, you make short stops at various locations, barely have time to get food and see one thing perhaps, and it’s back on the ship for ice cream and pizza. It wasn’t bad - and in my youth, I did enjoy reading. I remember the magic of reading these books, feeling it would never be as good again, enjoying the secrets of The Chamber Of Secrets, the mysterious guilds with their mythological fauna, the entrancing beautiful items, and you may see how fairy tales like Harry Potter inspire my literature to this day, with a book like Cat Story. The tale of the giant snake and the phoenix truly entranced me, surely read very soon after the consumption of the first novel on this cruise ride. There were girls on the ships, and it should be noticed I am seriously heterosexual - not just lying about it like everyone else, showing interest in women exclusively sexually and primarily otherwise my entire life. I also consumed the charming Disney movies around this time, the vintage classics like Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, Cinderella, Alladdin, The Lion King, and all the classic original films any young person should consume. And if you didn’t know that, write it down, and then do it. 

         In my young mind, the myth of love allured me, the concept of a soul mate, someone to fill my days, intelligent company, a loyal companion to be monogamous and in love with. And in my heart, I always knew the other party would fail me, hence my desperate throwing of myself into the artistic domains as much as possible. Even as a young man, I knew to love was to open yourself to pain, like the weak slimy skin of a snail, and to this day the topic causes me pain to think about. You see the Disney movies, the Prince Charming, saving the princess and living happily ever after. This has not been close to the case in my life - but we will get on that more later. You may surprised as to the length of this novel, as there is much, much to discuss, as to what I am - as the entity that is Jonathan, and how I became so horrifyingly intelligent, talented, capable, accomplished, etc. Back in Agoura Hills, I perhaps went on my Mother’s computer to begin searching for photos of women’s breasts and genitals, to pleasure my penis to. Something that should be normal - but I have a hypothesis and suspicion the experience of having a penis, being attracted to women, experiencing erections and orgasming virile semen may be extremely rare, the lengths humans may have to go to to reproduce may be extremely pathetic, involving artificial insemination and other works of science to perform what should be the most natural act in the world, in regards to procreation. 

          So I have lived with this penis, horny for women, torturing my mind and virile body, my entire life and am still this entity to this day. For me, there is never enough sex, enough girls even, and I believe everyone hates me for this - however it is very much a physical result of how high my testosterone is, all endogenously produced (these days - I did have a short, mistaken experience with light PEDs like Ostarine, in high school - which I have miraculously recovered from). We will get into all of this - something I learned as a young child, is that books are often boring and nonsensical, you will lose yourself, perhaps it is your fault and the authors, but continue with the experience and hopefully you will learn something and feel alive, being better for it. Of course, there’s the issue that so much as a sentence from my divine hand is better than all of human creation including the Bible, the Iliad and Odyssey, any ancient story is irrelevant and obsolete from even a word I say, my heart is so pure. 

          And I mean, this is as conceited and narcissistic as possible, but if you are to enjoy me as an author you must keep in mind, that’s seriously how I think. No matter what any idiot imbecile disgusting ugly creature, some of my affectionate names for the other living humans who feel the need to critique me, I know my work is not only good - but simply the best. Superior. In any domain, I just win, in every aspect. At this point in my life, I can confidently say that, and this was not always the case. For what I am missing here, in the description of my young self, is my incredible kindness, my forgiveness, my passion and sympathy, my helpfulness, my positivity. I am like a shining ray of light of happiness, I am surely from heaven, an eternal spirit gifted eternal life from the highest conceptions of Nirvana, this universe and life is nothing but scum on my feet. Seriously, you guys can’t seriously think this is all there is to existence? Your pathetic bullshit? Most humans have never so much as been to Europe, visited Italy even once, you ask a countless amount of American Italian immigrants if they’ve been to Italy - the answer is usually no. That’s insanely pathetic. What of, even the idea of a completely clean and good universe? Why would this not exist? Why would it just be this pathetic bullshit? Free will - and the supposed overworld. I believe life is a test - to see if you are a good boy or girl, or scum who needs to be disposed of in hell forever. 

            You can very much think of this as my own religion, or the Truth, Jonnyism, the word of god, Satanism, the highest truth that can possibly exist - and it is simply me, and my message. To even bring up Jesus Christ, God, or Yahweh when discussing with me is a pathetic joke, my dominance and righteous message so obvious. You read the Bible, it’s the work of a pathetic society that spits in food and fucks animals due to their lack of virility. You read me, it’s from a chill cool guy just trying to save the world from literally everyone else. Even just my world. 

           What you must keep in mind, as I go on these tangents, is that I am very much the same entity I was as a young child boy, and this is pretty much what I was thinking. I believe we are in first grade at willow elementary, a few events are worth mentioning - a fated fall off a scooter while bombing a large hill, the open house that same day, and my rejection of Christianity at Catholic Church. In elementary school, my teachings had regressed, and I turned to reading novels on my own to continue learning. We did not have phones yet, only computers and some video game consoles. We did have the iPod shuffle, if I’m not mistaken, likely a lot better than the technology we have now. We did have the Harry Potter movies and some charming Disney Pixar movies like Toy Story or Cars. It was some of the best times in my life, the wonder of the world still in tact. Around this time I had the dream of becoming a singer, and composed and sung a short song, which was quite beautiful, in which I expressed I wanted to experience my life to the fullest. My parents shunned and rejected my dream of becoming a singer, causing me pain and to give up on my dream for the time being. When you create a work of art, and it is met with disdain and scorn, spitting on by people with no accomplishments to their name - it really hurts, and it is so disgusting. 

           My older brother was receiving piano lessons at a local house, and in my youthful and daredevil ways I would ride a scooter down a local hill full speed while my father watched me during his lessons. We would do this, and I would progressively go higher up the hill, scootering down the concrete sidewalk as fast as possible. One day, I went very high up the hill. My father approved. I began to bomb the hill, it was going well - when he made a noise, attracted my attention, and suddenly I hit a rock and fell off my scooter, falling into the pavement face first, my helmet saving my head, but indenting a scar into my forehead. It was likely a trap set up to hurt me, and I knew this. I bled onto the pavement, a horrifying amount out of my face, but I did not cry. I rejoiced in the sight of my own blood, knowing my father had wronged me, and I looked up at him with my evil eyes, no pain or pathetic behavior at all. We went to the hospital where I would receive stitches, and a permanent scar on my forehead, that remains to this day. We went to the school’s open house after this happened, this horrifying incident, involving my body being hurled off a scooter full speed and hitting my skull directly onto concrete. I came to the open house, I was not only strong, but intelligent, answering hard questions, and you could tell the staff and parents were scared of me. It was a good feeling. 

         The other incident I want to bring up is my rejection of the Catholic Church around this time. I learned of the message of Jesus, of Genesis and other things, and I did not like the whole vibe. I viewed it as super weird, dusty, and an obvious covering up by the pathetic species, a way to pretend bad action is remotely acceptable. That is still what I view Christianity as - a total cop out, simply worship some guy and you’ll save yourself from your own bad behavior? I hope not. I labeled myself as an atheist for a long time, starting at 6 years old if I’m not mistaken. 

Chapter 2 : 2nd through 5th grade at Willow Elementary 

         Here is the introduction of a video game console into my life, the Nintendo DS, and also a laptop I did many things on, like play Maple Story; a charming multiplayer video game that is no longer worth a damn: I played Pokémon Diamond, and established myself as Pokémon champion, and at no point did I cheat or view this as a remotely acceptable thing, playing the entire game myself in 2006 or 2007. I really catch the Pokémon, learn to beat the trainers, learned many words by experiencing the Pokémon games, and had a great time. I never could have possibly anticipated how insanely pathetic everyone else was about video games, the introduction of video game cheats was shown to me at a young age, called the Game Shark, a cheating device sold at the store. You could use this to break the game, making it impossible to die or fail to catch Pokémon - obviously completely ruining the experience. I did experiment with a game shark, but I only used it to access hidden experiences. Anything else? Not actually beating the whole game fair and square? Surely pathetic - obviously. Any child could figure that out - all children know this, but not all children are not pathetic as I am. So not all children are relevant or intelligent at all, complete nothings in the universe, and that is the way life is for the more disgraceful specimens in existence. 

          This period of my life is a lull, as many of them are, learning of the wonders of listening to music using increasing technology presented by Apple like headphones and iPods, enjoying the mystique of the games I was playing, experiencing cool multiplayer experiences on Maple Story, shyly conversing with females while never ever coming close to cheating, always truly playing the game. I would prioritize my dexterity and fight the monsters all throughout the game, this was some of the most fun I had in my life. I would spend a lot of my parents money on cosmetic items, stealing twenty dollar bills out of my father’s wallet to purchase things from the store, points for cosmetic items in the game. He never questioned me on it, perhaps he knew or perhaps he didn’t, he is dead now and good riddance. 

         My fervor for reading hit its stride, I was reading college level literature at times, and of course we had the fairy tales. I would have fun playing on the playground with the other children at Recess - an activity I miss and long for. I was quite good at four square, spending much of my time in the “king’s square”, the desirable fourth square for knocking out the other opponents by hitting the ball out of their box while maintaining a downwards angle with your open palms. It is often very hard to challenge me in the physical domain of real sports due to the difficulty of cheating at this, the superiority of my ways of thought obvious. I have been ostracized blatantly from boxing, fighting, basketball, football, track, and much more - despite extremely impressive statistical achievements, I have literally received no interest from any colleges, any fighters willing to challenge me, any boxers willing to take on the challenge. And it is likely because they will simply lose and are aware of this, but more on that later. My brother and I attended a local martial arts dojo called Lacombe Karate where we would learn punches and kicks, like the front kick, which I still love to this day. We would do dances to practice fighting, I was not allowed to spar the other kids if I recall correctly, as I am still not allowed to do. I did break the black board, which was actually quite hard, and this training along with some moderate training my brother and I did with light weights at home, along with our constant scuffling, resulted in me getting a lot of strength and cardio training as a boy. 

         It should be noted, the experience of playing video games, truly playing them, conquering them, learning their information and making cherished memories with them, is quite addicting, especially for a young child like I was, and I played many, many games, showing extreme physical capacity at them. I played many games, many final fantasy games, know of many different types of games and am as dominant a personality as you’re likely to ever come across, in this life or the next. 

         What I am saying is that I enjoy the games, and that cheating is super lame, and not accomplishing anything at all - less than that. And that you should just stop, but if you ever showed any proclivity towards cheating at games, you’re likely beyond repair and suffering in the depths of despair and your own feces that comes with being an awful video game cheater, ruining the lives of others and the entire concept of existence as a whole due to how pathetic you are. And that’s the cold hard truth, as always. You might be surprised how incredibly common cheating at video games is among the long list of people who could never come close to publishing a novel for a gigantic amount of reasons, primarily their lack of intelligence or physical capacity - it seems to be 100% from what I’ve seen, other than just me. It’s pathetic, it’s a joke, you could have just done it, been beautiful. But cheating is not beautiful. 

         And I would have my fun in the depths of my sheets, hiding myself in my room, still enjoying Cartoon Network and a host of animes my on laptop computer where I played maple story. This was generally how my life was in this time period of elementary school - playing Maple Story. There was quite a fun dragon update I enjoyed, many charming places like the haunted castles, the Lego toy land, the clicking tocks, the demons and beasts - as just a start, for the wonders of this once glorious game. I did not really actually compete in competitive sports in any regular basis, but I did take some piano lessons. I would later go on to be, of course the greatest musician of all time. My parents likely did not want me to cultivate my physical ability, but I shrugged it off and played video games. Around here I got fat, my mother famously making me eat all the food on my plate, the stress of video games making me gain weight. I still was not that fat in all of elementary school. Perhaps a bit chubby in fifth grade, understandable due to my insane puberty. 

         I’m not sure what to talk about here. There was Europe, the Nutella banana crepes, the ungrateful homeless man who refused fresh food from me, choosing drugs. The strange beggars on the streets of Paris, nights at the top of the Eiffel Tower, before the pathetic wall was put up. Some of life was good, if only to make a beautiful sentence. There was dragons, and sharks, these things were cool to me, new and amazing. There were zoo cards, charming ads on the television for toys and such. There was, of course, Hawaii and my many adventures on Oahu. Harry and I were very brave boys, taking on the waves often, body surfing on them. We would dig in the sand, these are some of the fonder memories of my family life. We would have delicious shaved ice, eat the macadamia nuts. I would be doing something to desperately hide from my family, as I am now, while enjoying the physical comforts of the island. We also went snorkeling at a place called Hanauma bay, where I photographed many fish using a disposable camera while snorkeling on the reef. This place is quite nice, it used to be much better before human pollution. 

       I never actually learned to ride a surfboard until much later. We just bodysurfed. You swim as the wave is coming towards you and attempt to be one with the current, it actually happens on rare occurrence, like a flying animal through the waves. We did this a lot, there’s many pictures of our times in Hawaii, and my childhood in general. I find my life a bore to talk about, but it should be spoken of, in extraneous detail, because I am so awesome and amazing. I’m not sure what I was doing at all during this time, I had no plans for my future at all, I was just enjoying video games so much. Because maple story is players versus NPCs, instead of versus other players primarily, the rampant cheating was not such a bother. I loved the cosmetic items, the beginnings of my incredible fashion sense and Shadieu.com. And throughout my life, there is this consistent theme, the happiness that exudes from my eyes, the comfort of sleep, the erotic nature of it, the heterosexuality, the normality and disappointment in others. 

       In second grade, I was in a strange building on the Willow campus. I had an older teacher. I remember reading things, the Willow Elementary library, and catching butterflies in the yard of the school, and bringing them home. It was a beautiful experience. And that’s all I really remember from that year, to be honest. In third grade, a teacher I had accused me of having ADD, attention deficit disorder and demanded I see a therapist. The therapist concluded I was fine, and I had a delicious strawberry candy, the type you might imagine your grandmother would give to you. I also made a video of a pikachu dancing on a trip to Canada, using a hand puppet, and some gangster rap song. We shared it with the class, for whatever reason, I just wanted to. My teacher didn’t approve of the song, and we listened without noise, they seemed to enjoy it. It’s totally possible this video was famous, and suppressed, likely even, given my current status as unanimous greatest thing of all time who must be tempered as hard as possible. My brother and I continued our extremely violent home life, him conveniently being a wrestler, as my striking is sure to cause fear in anyone, for a giant amount of reasons. You can sense this, and it is hard to engage me due to it, the dexterity and speed of my hands, their density, and my erratic and unpredictable nature. Unpredictable, in a very physical way, in relation to time and frames - it is very very hard to understand when I am going to punch, or how powerful I truly am - which is why I have been in very few physical fights with blows in my life, which is quite funny for a giant amount of reasons, like my open challenge to duel me for anyone in the species, due to them being retarded and gay. They have not taken me up on it even once outside of prison. 

          In fourth grade, I had an older teacher, and an incident where I went to a private school, viewing my school as literally retarded. Claiming I had not learned anything in all the years I had been at Willow - proven by the fact we started learning long division again in fourth or fifth grade, something I learned in kindergarten if you remember, I transferred schools to a school called Mates, a weird Mormon creepy ass bullshit place. I was quite fat and had glasses. But of course, I am a super ultra genius. It should be mentioned I left my best friend, TK, or Tyler Kinomoto, an Asian boy who I had bonded with over Pokémon, in a very normal fashion. He had brought his Nintendo DS to school and played with it in the safe room while it rained, while I had nothing. It looked so fun, this incident in the second grade caused me to make my mother get me a Nintendo DS - the lasting consequences of these life decisions reverberate to this day. Mates was quite a haze, I remember the drama of wearing the uniforms, I had been made dark skinned by this point, and it should be kept in mind I’m just a totally separate thing from everyone else. We are just physically not the same thing at all and it really shows, so everyone is primarily racist to just me for being so much better than them. I had an odd relationship with a boy named Leo, not necessarily friendship as he was terrible, awful, and a piggy. We would play kickball, for some reason there was drama, he was crying, perhaps I was crying - but less, always less. It was a pathetic display and I switched schools soon, back to Willow, my friends happy to see me again. I requested to be placed in Ms. Pope’s fifth grade class in order to do the Michael Jackson Thriller dance. I made it in, and spent the summer playing video games and reveling in my loneliness, as always. 

         Fifth grade, or 2010, was one of the more interesting years of my life. There was Emme Shachory, pronounced em-mee shah-koree, was my first love, from my perspective at least. She was a beautiful transfer student with brunette hair, doe eyes, and pigtails. For a time I sat next to her, not directly, but with some aisle space, and I did acknowledge her once. I claimed she should be class president, for she was so cool and smart, or whatever, to which she became quite hot and red and exclaimed I was nice. We had another incident where at the end of school, we had a water balloon fight, and I decided to throw my balloons playfully at her, and we were laughing and smiling a moment, before going back into the depths of loneliness in the summer. I was not close to physically capable, brave enough of taming a woman, or of course… interested, as there always is the issue of everyone else being some bullshit pathetic creature from retard society. 

          I believe I refused to send anyone Valentine love letters in any personalized way on the holiday celebrated in the school, as I thought it was weird. I thought a lot of things were weird. Something I forgot to mention - Trick Or Treating! Halloween, one of the most fun holidays, involves the dressing up as scary creatures by humans. They would go from house to house with their children dressed in costumes, proclaim Trick Or Treat!, and every house would be expected to have candy. I went as some different things, a skeleton, a ghost, a scream outfit with a blood pump, that I would use at my neighbor’s houses. We would consume the candy in horrifying amounts, and it was quite fun. You might be surprised how much this is not a thing anymore - the polluters have truly destroyed the earth and completely forgotten about their own society, there aren’t Halloween decorations, families walking in the street, or anything normal at all. 

         It’s hard to fill this section since my life is so simple, me being good at things, everyone else being awful and the worst and insanely pathetic and not being able to speak at all. There was the remarkable anime on Cartoon Network, it would play on occasion on their late night television, adult swim, the terrible disgusting shows made to ruin children’s brains every night after luring them in with fun cartoons. Once in awhile, the show Inuyasha would come on, giving me a beautiful experience, a celebration of the concept of totally monogamous love. There was the girl, Kagome, and the demon boy who would protect her. There was the well, the shikon jewel, the schoolgirls of Tokyo, a trip through time and many demons. It was a beautiful thing, and the outro of season one is one of my most fond memories to this day. There was also Naruto, Bleach, Pokémon, Code Geass : Lelouch of the Revolution, Dragonball and Dragonball Z, all interesting pop culture experiences I had in my charming, cruise ship dwelling youth. 

         There is always more to remember with Willow Elementary, still some of the more charming times of my life. There was the reciting of poems, the games of handball against the big brick walls with other people, the games of shoddy basketball on the messed up uneven hoops, and much more. There was the turkeys, the science board fair, the kool-aid igloos, square dancing and funny slave music singing, like pick a bail of cotton. Seriously, we sang a song about being slaves picking a bail of cotton for our masters, and learned the messed up and brief history of the United States, glamorizing this somehow. In fifth grade, I would refuse to say “under God” during the pledge of allegiance, an act of defiance against everything for being so awful. There was a Halloween party I was ostracized from totally in 5th grade, a sad occurrence. My teachers and classmates would bully just me, quite blatantly, my entire life, for insanely pathetically minuscule and mundane reasons. We had the walks to Carl’s Jr in 5th grade, you would have to win some amount of points to be invited, and we would walk once a week or maybe once every two weeks for milkshakes and burgers. Ms. Pope could not teach at all for 2 days of the week, meaning thursdays and fridays were like romp sessions, where me and my male friends would joke around at the teacher’s expense, Ms. Rosemont, since she was so inept. In my youth, I had no clue human men were actually gay as fuck, as in all of them. One of my playdate companions kissed me at the end of the hangout session, and I decided to just have no friends at all after that. I started to have friends in fifth grade, briefly friends with Matias, Corbin, Cody, and Richard despite his overall rejection. We had a black male friend who did not go to the next middle school with us. I learned to speak to people with these things, and of course I viewed them as awful. We had some fun in Ms. Pope’s class, making jokes about her bush outside class, how pathetic and fat she was. We did not hang out - I was never invited to things. Everyone always thinks I need to be submissive to them, for some reason, failing to accurately assess what they are and what I am, so I went home that summer to play video games, alone, again. I think I began some Water Polo and swimming around here. 

         There was the local swimming pool and gym, a club of sorts, and we would go there on occasion. I would go swim some laps - the water was just disgusting, seriously humans are actually putrid, there’s such valid reason for not doing literally anything here - and it’s HIV. Gayness, the acceptance of not only gay men but the allowance of them to exist, go outside and go into things like restaurants, gyms, and movie theatres. It just shouldn’t be allowed - a gay, red, weird hairy HIV infested standard human man will permanently taint anything they touch, our world is a gay HIV infested hellhole and I will stand by that until the day I die, that this is the culprit for my laziness. 

         I did Karate for a couple years, quitting after working my way up a bit. I was a known quitter - and I still am. That’s somewhat of a joke, I just lose interest in things and focus on other things for a while. For example, Jonny in Zentera turned out to be very hard to write, so I’m just writing this piece of nonfiction about my life to be productive, pass the time, remember myself - since it is so important, my importance as an individual cannot be overstated. I believe it was in 5th grade or perhaps slightly later that I joined the Boy Scouts at my local church, a fortuitous choice. Piano lessons only lasted a couple years, I did not take my practicing so seriously - a decision I stand by due to the poor teaching methods. I did learn how to read sheet music, the treble and bass clef, quite well actually. Always quite well, I always have had an affinity for everything very fast. My music training on the piano involved extremely boring pieces by Johannes Sebastian Bach… and not much else! Haha. I did learn how to play “Clocks” by Coldplay, my teacher shunned my dream to sing, in as pathetic a fashion as possible. So I’ve played quite a brilliant rendition, likely the best you’ll hear, of this song by Coldplay, many times when I set foot on a piano. It’s quite impressive. 

         I eventually would take up the piano again, but I continued to delve into the depths of video games. I still had just no life plan at all and was just barely a conscious thing at 10 years old. All I knew was that everyone else was as pathetic of stupid bullshit as possible. For example, I’ve been super horny and down to fuck for awhile now, and as a heterosexual virile man who’s also a super genius, I know this isn’t exactly common. Just simply having a penis that functions and deposits virile semen, (not to mention all the other stuff as to what I am, in regards to kindness, talent, etc - as in my superior genetic sequencing) this should be worshipped by females, much much more. As in, if anyone wanted to do something as good for them as possible, they would literally suck and fuck my cum all day. And I’m being super serious, not kidding you at all - this behavior would make them intelligent, relaxed, chill, cool, talented, sexually satisfied and much more - which nobody else is. It’s just me - I alone, Jonathan, am legit chill. Everyone else is just weird as fuck doing some pathetic bullshit for all the wrong reasons, which is obviously what being stupid as fuck is. 

          Anyways, another thing worth bringing up from this time period is my trips to Canada. In Canada, life was quite good, at this time. The cities were quite polluted and sad, but they had a certain charm. There was Tim Horton’s, a classic Canadian coffee place we would go for food. There were extremely charming amusement parks, like La Ronde, which we enjoyed. One fateful day I got to be the last kid in line with the balloon clown, and he gave me an entire outfit, of balloons. It was quite cool, one of the only acts of kindness anyone has shown to me. There was also the ice barrel maple syrup popsicle, a total classic. They would pour the maple syrup onto a barrel filled with shaved ice, take a popsicle stick, and jimmy the hardened maple syrup onto a popsicle stick. This was the treat, and it was quite delicious. The whole park is situated deep in the woods and is quite charming. There is a go kart race thing and also a roller coaster if I’m

not mistaken. There was also Champion’s camp, or something like that. We would sing we are the champions, there were some cute girls, and we did fun activities. I did enjoy summer camp in my youth, learning to swim, how to make ice cream, many things. 

         We probably went to Europe somewhere in here, I’ve been to Europe many times. I remember European Disneyland, it was quite fun. Super weird though. There was another park in Canada I can’t remember the name of, one of those memories dug deep into the corners of my mind. I remember a River, I remember the entrance, I remember it was quite charming and had logs. I didn’t mind my life in elementary school. Elementary school was the creative joyful period of my life, recess a physical wonder that shouldn’t be disposed of at later ages. I read many, many novels in this age period, like Warriors - the novels about cats, The Lots of The Rings, a series of unfortunate events, some fairy tale me and my friend Matias enjoyed (however I’m sure he didn’t come close to actually reading it) and many other things I’ve forgotten of. 

         I threw my water balloons at Emme Shachory, my crush, we sang a couple songs like Lean On Me by Bill Withers, one last look at the Willow Library and my time at elementary school was over. On to getting fat, and playing video games.

Chapter 3 : Lindero Canyon Middle School 

          In the summer between elementary school and middle school, I went to Vegas. I purchased a fedora that I liked, a black hat with white stitching. My brother claimed it was cringe, nerdy - this character I was is likely what stemmed the concept of Incels, loser virgins who get fat and play video games. I didn’t necessarily care - I was like 10 or 11 years old, discovering music on my Apple headphones. In terms of what I’d end up doing with my life, I’d have told you I’d want to be an artist or something - but I didn’t talk much! Of course, this is because everyone else has always been as pathetic of bullshit as possible. Nobody else except myself has ever been interesting to me at all, their insane stupidity is just horrifying to behold, how blatantly they will express insecurity, embarrass themselves in front of me. It’s truly horrifying, how much humans will embarrass themselves in front of me, sealing their permanent lifelong shunning by me. And the thing is, I don’t care. I don’t care if they enjoy this or don’t enjoy it / in regards to the shunning. I just don’t view anyone else who is alive, or anyone else who has ever existed, as remarkable, intelligent, worthwhile, cool, creative, or anything good in comparison to me. Yeah, they made me brown and are in a constant war against my waist line, height, strength, bodily function, hair, teeth, just everything. Everything about me that can be sabotaged has been sabotaged as much as possible by everyone else - it is no exaggeration at all. 

          Shame - a disease, to shoot your own foot before a race. I came to school and didn’t wear the fedora. You could just tell this was a whole thing to everyone, and it would have been a whole thing if I did wear the fedora, and I’m still just some random nobody. But you just know, if I wore the fedora the first day, nobody would have ever let it go. You see, not everyone can just wear a fedora, they’re quite cool actually - a major fashion statement. Perhaps someday I’d wear something like this. They’re also quite comfortable actually, giving your scalp room to breathe. It should be kept in mind I’m around 6 foot 3, perhaps I was closer to 6 feet in 6th grade, growing fast and extremely virile. I would play pornography games on my computer on Newgrounds.com, where we had Meet N’ Fuck and the Zone Sama Hentai flash creations. I had to stroke off my cock so much it was ridiculous, middle school being the prime of this. 

         So, I was in the sixth grade. My trip to Vegas had been nice, a nice crepe at the Paris casino the highlight, a Nutella banana crepe - the crepe classic. I learned how to cook these at home, contributing to my bigger waistline. I was going up on the scale, but I mean I was literally 11 or 12. Also, my “mother” and everyone else is trying to make me as fat as they possibly can my entire life. That’s why they don’t have novels and nobody would read their fucking autobiographies - because they spent their whole lives trying to make me fat and ruin me. Seriously! 

         I signed up for classes. I was still in GATE - a higher level, me deciding school was a farce and joke for years since kindergarten, learning barely anything except being blatantly brainwashed by USA propaganda. I had history class with Ms. Cortina, Math with Ms. Nelson, orchestra with Dr. Fried, and a science class. We also had PE - I was at my slowest. My mile time was over 9 minutes and it was quite shameful for me, but I was in my defiant phase. You see, everyone else has actually been the most pathetic fucking bullshit I’ve ever seen or heard my entire life - they don’t understand how insanely pathetic every word that comes out of their mouth is, or how disheartening this is to me. You show them a nice piece of art you made, they’ll say some bullshit, give some bullshit slight under the guise of constructive criticism. But it’s never constructive criticism. It’s always a way for them to express their penises are really small, they’re really talentless, they’re really delusional and just simply awful and the types to suffocate artistic light. 

         This was my excuse for getting fat. I played video games, I enjoyed video games, I could play them alone away from others. I did not like sports because it involves hanging out with other human males - who are just the most pathetic, cry baby, get all red and flustered pieces of shit you’ll ever meet. Not to mention nobody ever says anything of remote insight. An incident in water polo, for example. I was 10 years old, in elementary or middle school, playing water polo in the kids pool. I was by far the best player on the team. It was partially because I could stand up, but in hindsight we were in the kiddy pool so I mean, I was just better. I would throw the ball into the goal viciously every time. I was also the fastest swimmer, my rival - a tall red homosexual, I believe out swam me one time and I became mad about it. He punched me inappropriately at some practice, I became upset with him - believing us to be friends. Of course, I am the best, and I was undoubtedly king of the kiddy pool, with my tall body and vicious ways, so I don’t know what it’s like to be some enmitous pathetic creature. 

         The coaches bitched out as hard as possible and decided to throw me in the big pool two years too early, saying I was 12. I was not 12, I was 10, and I complained about it. They just went stupid mode, as humans do, over experiencing the humiliating defeat every time. I didn’t feel like hanging out with kids older than me and also viewed water polo and all sports as gay as fuck, so I quit. A few years later, I would briefly swim. Ah, before I forget - on the car ride to Vegas, still one of my first times visiting, I had a phone or iPod, an iPod I believe, with the game infinity blade on it. I believe the year was 2010 - I had played this entire game on my phone during that car ride, with my headphones in. Somehow I managed to keep it charged, perhaps with a car charger, as my parents dragged me to Vegas. Infinity blade was a game about knights in a castle who would fight each other and be born again in order to fight again. You played by yourself, you could get upgrades to your weapons and armor and use various things, and you would swipe on the phone to swing your weapon, cast spells, and perform various moves. It was insanely high definition and well made, especially for the time - and our video games are not much in comparison. Especially considering it was a phone game… I played on my iPad… in 2010 (it’s 2023 and we have not advanced.) It’s truly just pathetic. 

         Anyways, somehow my iPod lasted. When we began the long car ride, I was nothing, quite a noob. By the time we had finished I believe I had slain the God King at the top of the castle, a huge achievement. My iPod was hot from the hot sun and I was sweaty and unaware of my surroundings, I had been so engrossed in this little phone game. We had arrived at Vegas and were still a family of sorts. To win at a game, to complete it, is a lifelong achievement. To go through the struggle, of losing so many times, winning so many times, learning so much and using your brain in so many ingenious ways - this will make you happy and satisfied all night, and will prove a fond memory to look back on the rest of your life, as we are demonstrating now. It goes without saying I did this with no software help and view the game as quite easy.  A memory that flashes in my eye is the hot Vegas sun overheating my iPod after I had beaten the game - horror for a moment, but I found I was in Vegas, making memories. 

         This was around the time I got into first person shooter video games. I believe I started with some single player games, like Bioshock. I played bioshock, it is probably still the best human video game. It’s quite horrifying, really, and extremely difficult. A wonderful experience for an 11 year old, or whatever I was, and is still unmatched. Bio shock tells the story of a guy named Jack, a faceless standard human man in a place called Rapture, a hypothetical city under the sea, that has been overrun by druggies and monsters called Big Daddies. I’m not sure what your job is other than to escape, as human video games and all of human creation have a common theme of extremely uninspired stories. A voice channel guides your path in the game, he tells you what to do, leading his commands with the phrase “would you kindly” - Frank Fontaine, if I’m not mistaken. You trust him, as you have no choice, and he eventually betrays you. You can save the little girls who have been infested with the plague, or consume them. Only saving all of them will get you the morally good ending, failing to do so will mean you’ll have to play the whole game again. 

         This game is extremely good as a first person shooter. The splicers are extremely hard to kill, have a ton of HP, act extremely erratic and are simply horrifying - it absolutely is a horror game. You have some abilities you can and should use creatively along the way, and it has many charming experiences, involving insanity, plastic surgery, dancing, a freezer, all under the sea! I’d recommend this game to anyone, as we wait for me to make a game… or die. I believe Cave Story was around this time or slightly earlier, a charming two dimensional video game involving a robot with a gun, his robot girlfriend, and escaping an island. Once again, the story is weak, incoherent, underdeveloped, and we are left with a vague memory / because that’s what all of human creation is. Vague, unfinished, hasty, uninspired, all of these things. It has quite a charming, 8 bit synthesized sound track that is likely to stick with you. 

          I played this game on my DS LITE, with its Software store, an innovative concept. There was also Dragon Tale, one of the best games I’ve played. I’m not sure what anything is or when anything happened or what anything was - no event in my life was that remarkable, a distinct lack of heterosexual relationships plagues my life to this day, although I would make some male friends in middle school. I was somewhat friends with Matias, Corbin, the losers who cheat at video games and make stupid ass noises, in fifth grade, but… not really. I was not invited to Richard’s house after school, perhaps they were too cool, as humans always are - so I stuck to the games, music, and literature. Somewhere around this time the Nintendo Wii was introduced. The most remarkable game on it was guitar hero. You would place the Wii controller into the guitar controller, and it was extremely fun. There were songs, and notes would come up on the screen for you to play along with in a simplified fashion. I would enjoy this on my brother’s console, playing deep into the night, gazing at the female rockstars. This definitely helped me later learn the actual guitar so stunningly fast. 

         It should be noted again that I am heterosexual, I have simply failed to communicate with the females of this species, viewing virtually everyone as weird as fuck and just disgusting. In 6th grade, I had given up primarily on school, but I did enjoy science, learning the many words, like a viscous liquid, or an amorphous solid, things like endoplasmic reticulum, DNA and RNA, mitosis and osmosis, some basic chemistry like electrons, neutrons, protons, the periodic table of elements and the basics of chemistry and the binding of atoms into molecules, atoms need to do this over their loneliness, need to be balanced in terms of their charge. I could explain all this more, or perhaps research it, but this is what I remembered from science in middle school. We also learned about sex, their hilarious views on sex like abstinence, the sex organs and basic information on the sexual act.           

         A multiplayer video game called team fortress two was a huge thing to me in middle school. I still played some Pokémon, I would bring it to school and play during the lull moments of life, always picking up that nobody else was remotely capable of conversing at all, not caring to learn more as to why and respecting their privacy. In hindsight, you might see how the dings and musical sounds of happiness rewarding me and the glow of my eyes as to my constant winning may cause enmity in others. Also, the charming nature of my device, and the games. Anyways, I would download team fortress two, and it was pretty much my real introduction into multiplayer first person shooters. Other than this, I had only played Halo 3 on my brother's Xbox. As with all games, I became way too into it - so I’d imagine I was quite good at Halo at a very young age. And - a horrifying reality that remains constant to this day, everyone else’s extremely suspicious horrifying amount of ability and ridiculous awfulness, terribleness, lack of ability to communicate at all. 

          Team Fortress Two on a laptop, as an 11 or 12 year old boy. It would not take long for me to become extremely addicted to this first person shooter. I showed interest in the spy, a covered Russian KGB agent with a knife, an invisibility cloak, the ability to disguise himself as a member of the opposing team, and a revolver handgun. He was quite weak from the front, the revolver is pretty weak and takes a ton of aim, his speed is moderate and the knife is virtually only useful from the back - especially because it should be noted that I have seriously never gone against a real player. It is extremely obvious from all of my memories on this experience, playing this early first person shooter game, that everyone else was completely cheating, only losing to me by some strange phenomena in the universe - them seriously being so stupid and useless as to lose while cheating, aimbotting, movement hacking, wall hacking, much more, and god knows what else. While I am, of course, just actually playing the game. This process, of everyone else retarding themselves as much as possible while I do the complete opposite, has made me a renaissance man with no rival, nothing close to an equal - since a while ago. And here is where it started, the playing of bio shock, one boy’s enmitous nights of being “DOMINATED” by another player, unsure of how or why the competition was so insanely stiff and difficult. Every kill was monstrously hard to get. It was quite demeaning being a 11 or 12 year old, playing this game, getting your ass handed to you by what you could only assume were older players. The word aimbot, the concept of cheating at these games was something I heard of maybe once, and I wrote it off as something nobody would actually do. Aimbot… it just aims for you at the players head. Not very hard to understand. But that would take all the fun out of it and completely ruin the game for other players… the obvious things I thought, as a person playing the games. It should be noted I’m in no ways lying about any of my accomplishments and am happy to demonstrate them to you, in person. I’m not like the other things, where there’s some bullshit lies and deceptions involving licking buttholes and actually being poor and disgusting. I’d be happy to literally meet with and converse with anyone as long as they’re female and attractive enough, something I can pick up on from any distance. I’m truly a very very kind individual - I’d imagine in another life I could be kind to a man, a male spirit - as I am to many male animals. But all human males are well past the most pathetic bullshit that could possibly exist, the untold rampancy of homosexuality is a horror in everyday life - the gay HIV and AIDS showing itself in every single man you see, red beyond belief, stressed and insane looking, some weird thing about maggots and worms. It’s no joke - I believe there’s no limit to how pathetic everyone else is, just Indian fucking scum parasite eaters that are parasites themselves, just mutated fucking horror movie creatures. That is, what I believe, the company is on this planet in the human domain. Creatures. Who cheat at the games. 

         And this is backed up by the fact I had no friends. I was enjoying the wonders of music, Scatman John and his two famous songs, vintage electronic pop music using what I’d later find out were analog synthesizers, The Beach Boys, The Eagles - these were my go to’s around here. Another charming memory like infinity blade is me in the back seat of my family’s van, taking in the world and listening to Don’t Stop Believing, Sweet Dreams, and some other 80’s hits. Obviously, the dream of being a musician was with me, even at this young age. I was gaining weight and in puberty. It wasn’t a very big deal at all - a young man of around 10-14 will understandably be larger, growing huge amounts of muscle with skyrocketing testosterone levels. Of course, everything my entire life has been a thing to make me fat, bald, ugly, stupid, to destroy my teeth, and to tear me down in any way - since I would later figure out these impossible level opponents were simply my local community, cheating at the games. You see, beating Pokémon isn’t just not for everyone - I believe it is likely an extremely rare accomplishment virtually nobody has honestly accomplished, somehow. The origin of all games is extremely strange, to say the least, seeing how I am literally the only person playing the games, as opposed to cheating at them - and there is more than a world of difference between these two things. So, why do they exist? I can’t honestly answer this as I’m still only 23 years old - the fact I’m writing this is spurred on by my bank accounts dwindling, the horrifying wiggly nature of one of my teeth, my general rotting and decay, and the nature of reality’s failure to exterminate humans. Seriously, humans are actually a terrible, awful, horrible disease - the fact they exist at all is so far past nonsensical, it is like being in hell, that these exist at all. I believe there is no room for weird, creepy, strange, awful, stupid, or disgusting behavior in this life - even one disgusting action likely indicative of a lifetime of this kind of putrid behavior. 

          Anyways, back to Team Fortress 2 and those days. Team Fortress Two is quite the human creation, made by Valve - the creators of Steam, the most popular computer platform for the download and play of video games. Team Fortress is not considered very popular - you bring up this world, and nobody knows what it is. But nobody knows a lot of things, like who Jonny Lucifer Shadieu is, and obviously that’s uh, probably not the case. So, the first nights and weeks went by - I was horrified at my lack of skill. There was the myth of 8 hours a day. I prioritized playing this game - I was so addicted and it was so fun, the feeling of being dominated did not sit well with me at all, in the slightest. So, I would practice, as I do, for hours and hours, often deep into the night. I would come home from school and nobody would be around, counting on my weird gay childhood friend to drive me with his family, always strangely late. There were some beautiful girls who would stay around, and I would get hot for them, staring, as I do. In any case I’d make it home and video games were the primary thing on my agenda, my diet was pretty poor, my parents bought terrible food and just everything about them and their food behavior patterns is extremely suspicious, disgusting, and poorly cooked. I would have some ramen noodles and deal with the stress of playing this game. Other than the spy, there was the Sniper and the Scout - my other two favored classes. The Sniper had a simple sniper rifle, a skinny Australian bloke, and you could find nice locations to sit and one shot headshot players. It was quite devastating. You might see how this is extremely, extremely difficult - like a circus trick, shooting a moving player in the head from a great distance, at the exact right time in the exact right spot. But every game, there was a sniper who would take you out, capable of doing this. It goes without saying this is all due to this concept of video game hacks, cheating software, and the fact nobody else in existence is even remotely close to being capable of being physically and morally good enough to doing something at this difficulty level. Overcoming embarrassment, the shame of being bad at things in a social environment - these are tests of a person’s spirit. And they are difficult, and they may involve crying to yourself, writhing in your loneliness, overthinking, but cheating is obviously not the answer - as it can obviously only serve to make this embarrassment, this fear of judgment or of being exposed horrifyingly bad. 

         And of course there is the stress, the horrifying stress these video games place on people. Of course, there was my stress, of being a player playing against people aimbotting, movement hacking and much more, and how difficult this made the literal mathematical processing in my brain, a likely culprit for my overeating. A video game cheater, also known as anyone else, might give some opinion on my hypotheses that playing games boosts your minds metabolism, makes you permanently smarter - even that you literally must eat after a hard video game session, pack on a bit of body fat to let your body and mind recover in your sleep. From all games, from poker to Pokémon to Apex Legends - all this stuff is insanely hard. Especially… when others are cheating. This issue is nowhere close to being fixed, the developers of all games cheaters themselves, things nowhere close to playing with their real hands. And so, this experience is stressful for them, as stressful as it can possibly be. In every creature there is something that obviously knows it should be playing these things with it’s real hands, so it can use its eyes and ears and train its hand eye coordination. And so, this already stressful experience is likely even more stressful, the victory of winning becomes nothing, a dull false high with no real amazing dopamine or oxytocin reaction from winning, overcoming. Like something much worse than a loser lobster, they likely will eat and eat, gain weight horrifyingly, complain and moan, or degenerate into worse behavior. There is, the limp falseness of winning with cheats helping, and of course the horrifying shame of losing to me very specifically. I had thousands of kills in team fortress two, with only 1,000 playtime hours. You might see how members of this community would have definitely experienced being killed by me, the feeling of watching the screen, spectating the other player, in disbelief that they did this to you. I’ll reiterate the fact I’m clearly playing is extremely obvious, there must be no true limit to the feeling of how pitifully useless and stupid you are as a man or living creature to lose with Aimbot and much more against a real flesh and blood guy. 

          While I did spoil the Fontaine betrayal in Bioshock, keep in mind this is primarily a game about shooting and using abilities, the story limp and weak. I hope you’ll forgive me for the excitement of reading even one of my sentences and paragraphs, likely new beautiful horizons into the vast scope of the English language and the concept of language itself, into the vast realm of conceptualization and intelligence, into all things and the concept of improving itself. You might see how every second of my life I have spent not cheating, which is virtually all of them (except capturing mew and arceus in Pokémon - a hilarious joke compared to what you fucking things do), has payed exponential dividends to my intelligence and dexterity. Thinking of what video games are, either controller or mouse and keyboard. This is incredible for your hands fine motor skills, the incredibly subtle and responsive aiming, the use of the keyboard or buttons to program your brain to do such a giant variety of things, requiring huge amounts of processing in real time. As my processing is done in my mind, and through my body - I was playing on a laptop doing incredible things extremely fast, hitting sniper headshots, terrorizing my opponents with horrific acts of dominance like the backstab, the betrayal, the use of the bow and arrow as a sniper to headshot opponents, the running and circling of the scout as he unloads his devastating shotgun bullets into his opponents. I did all of these things, this was my primary form of attack, and before too long I was virtually always on the dominating end. I was an extremely dominant force - very much the same player I am to this day. Solo, and devastating. 

          Around the beginning of middle school there was a game called Minecraft in its beta stage. I played this game, I believe I was told about it by a friend named Phillip Hancock, a tall white guy who was quite ugly and had long brown hair. He told me about it and we would play together some. I downloaded the game and got very into it by myself you’d be absolutely shocked how horrifyingly terrible Minecraft is in 2023 compared to what we had back then. There was no recipe book - everything was a total mystery, and the magic of the game was intact. I played it by myself, I’d build houses and caves, explore the caves, and you’d be shocked how difficult this game is. There are skeletons with bows and arrows, silent creepers who will come behind you and explode like TNT, zombies who will chase you, tall heights to fall and die from, hunger and starvation, and more. The magic of this game was truly enchanting in its beta stage. I watched this game as it grew and developed, sold out, and became the flaming hunk of garbage it is today. I would build things, they had a rudimentary phone app I showed a great appreciation of - Minecraft Pocket Edition, or MCPE. I actually made this little abbreviation myself, and created the subreddit for MCPE, Reddit.com/r/MCPE, which is still quite active to this day. Back when I was around, we would all celebrate the success of programming this phone app, how it had come farther than any of us could have anticipated. We thought it was only possible to have a rudimentary creative mode - however I, as leader of the subreddit, believed it was possible by the laws of processing as a 12 year old boy, due to my experience playing infinity blade on an iPad. It very much was, and is possible - the creators, and all other humans are quite simply retardedly stupid idiots and I have to program and create and entire video game myself to display this. 

         Within a few years, survival mode had been implemented. I got “booted” from the subreddit by my own moderators. It should be noted everyone has always been terrible, expresses cringe insecurity bullshit and nothing but, and to this day everyone else is an obviously liposuctioned idiot sack. Anyways, I played Minecraft, learned the many various crafting shapes by either being creative or searching them up, and was quite decent at the game. My likely fame as a sharp shooter in TF2 is likely quite real - as I’ve said to this day every single professional streamer and otherwise is quite simply cheating at video games. My headshots from the sniper were quite brutal, as they remain to this day on any FPS video game, along with my cunning and powers of betrayal and deception as the spy. I played Bioshock, which is a jarringly difficult video game for all the wrong reasons - the enemies simply have an unrealistic amount of health and the guns do an unrealistic amount of damage. The truth is, you take a shotgun to the face from 3 feet away - you die. Or at least are horrifically, irreparably injured. For reasons like this, pathetically easily avoided and noticed bullshit like movement scripts, clutter, graphical errors - all video games are extremely lackluster. 

          Another game that was quite remarkable was a game called Dishonored, about a guy named Corvo Attano, who needed to save his daughter or some young female character after being separated by conspirators. He was the queen’s guard of sorts, a highly trained assassin, who was later thrown in jail without reason by conspiring workers, plotting to overthrow the empire. He would put on a hood and mask, and go about his mission to save the girl. This would involve either murder, sedation, or knocking people out cold. Like a cat, Corvo could climb up walls, sneak on objects, frequent high places, jump from high places, and perform moves with stunning accuracy. The game is still a testament to what video games are capable of - it being held back by lackluster art, lackluster NPC programming - which is just voice lines - a shoddy movement script like all games, poor moral judgment on the part of the programmers to not allow Corvo to kill his conspirators - without the game becoming excessively difficult - and in general a lack of programming and input from me - AKA the guy who played the game. 

          Anyways, this game specifically and all games are great spatial awareness training. Corvo has many magical abilities - teleportation and too many to list, or play very efficiently. However, playing dishonored is no simple task - you need to be able to see, aim, hear, react quickly and decisively, respond under pressure, have resourcefulness and cunning, and accuracy. It goes without saying if you cheat, hence aimbot, god mode, movement hacks and the like - you are accomplishing nothing except making yourself as delusional and stupid as possible. It was always quite obvious to me cheating was a pathetic, scum thing to do that was less than pointless - degenerating yourself and your abilities, to be the opposite of what I am. In any case, I played and beat dishonored, learning how to sneak, hide behind things, assassinate and stun. Not everyone will beat video games - they are quite difficult, and if you do this even once in your life under logically good moral standing - as in, not cheating - you have every reason to be proud of yourself and a beautiful experience you will always remember, practice in the art of happiness itself. 

          And in 6th grade to 8th grade, there was no more magic time with Emme Shachory, and still nothing remotely close to a girlfriend. Rumor had it she had a boyfriend - it goes without saying I quite disliked him, and all other men since a young age - some stupid looking idiot. She also hung out with my friend Richard and posted it on social media. Richard is a weird, creepy scummy guy I’ve never liked in my life, despite our vague friendship. In any case, I heard these things, and moved on. It should be noted throughout all my youth there was not a single real fight involving punching from both parties. This is likely abnormal - as it should be. Living organisms SHOULD fight each other to establish dominance and moral authority - the cultivation of physical power goes hand in hand with the cultivation of good morals. In any case, everyone has always avoided me like the plague, and it’s not hard to understand why. If you, acknowledge you are basically talking to me, I am not ranting - we are going through my life together, bite by bite, in a form of dialect. I’d very much consider literature a way to talk to people. And you will find, I am seriously infinitely more intelligent than any Dostoevsky, Freud, Jung, Jesus Christ, Einstein, Hawking, through all of time - my message is so simple, to the point, obviously true, and well expressed. Even hearing one sentence like this, to the other living creatures I have been unfortunately subjected to in my life, is literally too much for their brains. They will become weak, falter, fail to have the words - fail to express themselves in any way. And when I find you are not expressing yourself, or are lying, or are simply unlikable, even just stupid or have a lack of talent - my interest in you will fade faster than you can possibly imagine and you will not be spoken to ever again. There is also this - in middle school, this was my Fat Era. In hindsight, that’s totally acceptable, obviously it goes without saying having such a big crush on someone like Emme or any girls and having this never coming close to working out is extremely stressful - the depths of your heart filled with thoughts of monogamous love, marriage, happiness - completely squandered and stepped on by this concept of boyfriends, hanging out, this strange cultural normalization of the whorization of our children and young women. I believe a woman should literally be untouched and unseen, having nothing close to a relationship with literally any other living creature except her monogamous husband before their Union and marriage - if simply

as to assure her attraction to him. And so, to this day, beautiful women will come out to me, live their lives, do all things of what being a woman is - however they manage to be trim, makeup, plastic surgery, smells, and all the aspects that make a woman’s life so hard - and then completely squander any chance of having any chance of becoming anything close to close with me (this being her aim, there is no doubt) due to her stupidity, whorishness, disgusting nature and the fact they feel some need to come out with some disgusting homosexual. I will spit on you nonverbally and walk away, and when I walk away from you there is no return. 

         I was friendless. But that didn’t matter at all. There were no friends to have, and I was quite gothic. I did get fat, expressed I didn’t care, and I had every reason to do so and more. I have given up on this life since an extremely young age and all the other living organisms. My ego has always been big - huge, for extremely obvious reasons. Something that happens to a young multiplayer video game player when faced with so much winning, tenacity, the cultivation of ruthless qualities, is extreme endogenous testosterone, oxytocin, dopamine production you can still see on my video game streams to this day. As with my current stream, where every kill and elimination is a highlight worthy clip - I have more than likely been facing cheaters my entire life. This has given me a subconscious awareness that all other life is the scum of the earth, the lowly and pathetic maggots, less than that - at least a maggot minds its business for the most part. Humans are the tattle tales, the unrespectable ones, the ugly and disgusting, the gay. I’ve also… heard things. Everything I have heard out of everyone else is… unimpressive to say the least. I will show someone, like my mother for example, a work of art I’ve made, and I’m only a young boy. Instead of simply complimenting it, pointing out something nice about it, encouraging me - she does the complete opposite. And before we talk about any of the aspects of what you are - what you all actually say, how obvious your pathetic jealousy is - let us remember this is my autobiography, there absolutely is a reason it must be written for the sake of my own life, and potential progeny. The sheer amount of reasons everyone else is obviously terrible and bad, and I am as good as I can possibly be knows no bounds - it’s just everything, what all of life is itself. A song called Pumped Up Kicks, in regards to school shooting, was quite popular during middle school, played on the radio stations and at the school dances. It likely had to do with my accomplishments in team fortress two - thousands of kills is extremely remarkable… 

         It should be noted, as a video game player, a practicer of things, I’ve been known to have extreme enthusiasm and a ruthless nature. If I want something done now, then that’s what I do. If I feel I’m unacceptably bad at something, I will practice it with extreme tenacity until I am better - within minutes, hours, or days you will always notice extreme levels of improvement in anything I do. I did not become so horrifyingly attractive as a male specimen by valuing females - it is not bad to say at all. I don’t value anyone, in truth, except the animals and our religion - which is very real, and very ominous. I don’t value female conversation, or input. I don’t value the female insight, or their lives for that matter. What I believe is that if a woman has ever maintained a physical proximity of 6 feet or less with another man even once in her life, and still that is too close, that she is His bitch, she is his physical disgust, she is tainted and ruined. And it’s all very much a smell thing - because that’s not all a woman who displays any pathetic qualities will do. There’s no limit to how fast or how idiotically people will degenerate into the depths of disgust, dog fucking, destroying every ounce of their intelligence and bodies - it is the standard human state to do so. If you think this is cruel my point is this - I lay here alone, accomplished beyond my wildest dreams, clearly in no ways delusional about anything. Why would you, as a female - a thing obsessed with this concept of a husband, a thing to take care of you and love you the rest of your life / prioritize physically being around another male specimen even once as opposed to coming to me like a zombie. I don’t care to know - your lives have no value and the continued adding on to my accolades, my creations, and my fame is more than enough happiness for me. 

         But in more ways than not, it’s not enough. Money is what I want. Money is something I deserve to have. Before stopping playing team fortress 2, or TF2, I received a cosmetic item worth maybe 100 dollars - a scout’s hat with drink bottle connecting to his mouth. I traded it to some guy before quitting the game - a couple weeks or months later, it was removed from the game. I would find out later it was worth 12,000 dollars due to its removal - an infinite sum, to me at the time, in 6th or 7th grade. Of course, my suppression has been lifelong, and unanimous, everyone is as much of a fucking pathetic awful scum sack bully as possible, their only conspiracy being that they’re all together against just fucking me. Seriously, what did I learn on team fortress two? That everyone is fucking terrible, completely stupid, worthless company, have no insight on anything, and in hindsight are just cheating as hard as possible and nothing close to conscious, respectable life. My theory on this is that everyone else should just fucking kill themselves and just do everyone a fucking solid since they are so worthless and awful. Anyways - I didn’t get the 12,000, and I was kicking myself. Before I talk about my weight loss, and the legitimate methods I used to achieve it, let’s talk about boy scouts! 

♾️

          So I joined Boy Scouts in middle school, or around the end of elementary school. My family and I found out about it at our primary church throughout all of my youth, the Westlake Methodist Christian church. Since I see no need for total linear continuity, we will describe briefly some of the events that happened here throughout my life. There was a brief stint with choir… it did not last. We did sing a show or something of the birth of Jesus Christ for Christmas or something of the like. It was… a pitiful church, with too many memories. It had semi tall buildings, these purple shag rug carpets all around, a small stage, and stained glass windows. We would come once in a while. There was another time I played bells with my piano teacher, that was quite fun - a beautiful instrument. There was another thing called Pizazz music camp, where I learned about music. They would say, play it with pizazz, like style and moxy. A kaleidoscope of sound… if I’m not mistaken. There were also the piano recitals I had in my youth.. if I’m not mistaken I was one of the better players despite my proclivity to not practice. Always, before a show, literally the night before or the last two nights, I would become possessed with shame at the thought of an embarrassing performance - so I would practice until I had it down. They were quite boring songs, but I always put on a good show. Anyways, at some Sunday church event they had talked of the Boy Scouts. On a whim, I decided to join, bored of my life and swimming. 

        Boy Scouts is a… thing. You have to keep in mind everyone else feels the need to pretend they aren’t gay in front of me my entire life… since I’m not gay, and I’m extremely kind. I literally believed the other things were straight like me my whole life just because they said so. Looking back it’s pretty fucking weird to talk about especially considering I still have grown men seem to fervently desire to rape me as much as possible at 23 full years old. And I mean that’s the truth. 

        In any case… there were the moms. I guess that’s why I stayed. On any trip or event there was a little squadron of hot moms, at least one, and they would even attend every one of the meetings usually. Meaning I got to see one beautiful red headed woman with an amazing ass, this other guy’s hot Indian mom who was swooning after me on one camp out… and that’s about it. But I mean, not bad. As is the story of my life I just kind of… do not pay attention to male things, having no interest in them. In any case I would learn a bunch of stuff, was a good Boy Scout, and was told being a Life Scout would be great on a job application. Instead everyone has shunned me as hard as possible for complaining about sexual harassment in the workplace and also because I can turn a 20 dollar bill into a beautiful, charming bag of food. 

        Yes, the story of my life is quite stupid and everything I say banks on everything else being as fucking terrible as they can possibly be about literally everything in regards to skill and talent. Yes, they have to be as tone fucking deaf as possible, as delusional, as much of Incel jealous virgins as they can possibly be for the story of my life to exist. Since I just obviously should have been a millionaire and billionaire since I was like a literal baby and they’re just definitely commiting insane amounts of mail fraud and physical violence over me. Everywhere I go, everyone has this vibe like, it’s time to pretend to be a functional fucking thing around this guy. Like they’re all just barely holding it together. Anyways, seriously guys, this story is pretty bad. As older Jonny Lucifer Shadieu, I can definitely state a kid beating every single Pokémon game viciously should have been noticed, and you’re all actually so far past insanely inept in this concept of competition, community, life itself. It’s just totally absurd what humans are. It’s just always this thing, getting mad at me specifically for being good at anything to the degree of being a professional. They all just really do not want this no matter what. There’s just no limit to how much everyone else clearly hates me, what lengths they will go to to wrong me, like it’s really just absurd to watch. As I write this I have a court case against Teresa brewing… it’s the year 2023 and I mean I’m just a child… she’s clearly guilty of all charges and I’m the greatest blah of all blah. 

          Anyways. There’s things like fishing, taking on King’s Canyon, Joshua Tree, night fires and s’mores, but the rest involves other human men, who I really don’t care to discuss given I’ve never given a shit about them. Anyways there was one camp, one summer, in middle school, where I was showing extreme leadership qualities, taking charge of our troop, and Lisa, the beautiful Indian mom was raving about how… good I was. You might see what I’m insinuating here, right? That the girls fuck me in my sleep? Or that’s what my hypothesis is. There was another girl at a camp in San Diego… there was the early morning get wet thing… and the early morning kayaking. There was also this red headed girl who was very hot that was nonsensically serving at a Boy Scout Camp, the one in San Diego. I said hello to her awkwardly as a 13 year old with a shaved head, very attracted to her. Life is a very hot experience for me, to this day, to see a beautiful woman without fully inseminating her repeatedly is like a semi torturous experience, having such a … large penis and testicles… which is yes, the actual truth, life among the sexually inept universe has been very hard on me. Oh? There were some fun games in Boy Scouts… we had Egyptian Rat Screw, a game that was only fun for one night… Basically, you shuffle and deal the cards, and throw them on top of each other one by one, you try to slap first to get the sandwich repetition or the dual repetition… it was fun. I also shot a gun at a camp, which was nice. Bows and arrows. As you can see from my memory of this… there is no gay love… I don’t even approve of hugging. I mean in truth I just hate everyone. But it was a fun experience… I just seriously wish there were much, much more coed experiences in this life and less… weird taboo shaming of heterosexual intercourse and relationships. No yeah just everything… the conspiring ways… weird secrets. All of these things are literally fucking pointless and everyone else is a complete and utter moron. This is my religion, 

         I don’t know what else to say about Boy Scouts. It could have been good, if another boy was like me. But nobody is like me. Nobody else ever has anything good, intelligent, positive, kind, thoughtful, just anything. There was also camp oakhurst… which is quite funny to me considering humans do not belong anywhere near a place called oakhurst or Yosemite… because they’re absolutely the scared of animals species, which is quite hilarious. Bigfoot and bears are also totally real, also kittens could potentially be an extreme threat… let alone much larger animals like wildcats, stray cats, and of course cougars. Also, there can be any amount of animals hiding anywhere anytime and you just will not know as a human… I’ve seen a giant amount of empirical evidence showing animals are incredible hiders, their senses are infinitely better than ours. Well…. Cats. Not dogs. Dogs appear to be some weird bullshit we shouldn’t even talk about. Just Boy Scouts and dogs man, just don’t talk about it. This is my brain and I’m sticking to it. 

        Oakhurst was??? I don’t know. Nobody can do the sex thing at all. They just cannot do it. It’s just extremely easy to me, hilariously easy, and to them it’s the biggest deal ever. Everything is. Because they absolutely are the tear your acl every day species. Like everyone else just struggles so much with every single aspect of life so obviously and is so clearly beat up about it. I don’t care to talk about oakhurst. I don’t care to talk much about anything in my fucking life, because I’m a man with a fucking penis and there’s a distinct lack of consensual heterosexual relationships in it, in a fucking world of literal micro penis shitsacks. So you might see how I view my life as a literal fucking waste, not giving a shit what I’ve done in my sleep, as I’m a totally intelligent, coherent, cool fucking living creature who you absolutely need to be able to speak to. There was the… mail. Where the parents would mail the kids candy and send them notes. There were no notes for me. There was no candy. Even if I asked. Nobody ever did shit for me and that’s the cold hard truth. It should be noted - to this day I have superhuman senses, my capacity to smell things knows no real bounds, so of course every time I eat at a cafeteria I’m going for the finest food there, and I just have this way about me. In other words, things may have an extreme proclivity to become extremely jealous of me. 

        I just don’t care to explain what Oakhurst was. Weird dancing circle… Kumbayah… masturbating in a room full of boys.. because yeah? I’m the guy with the penis so I’ll definitely have to do that. Of course, I was silent in my own bed, thinking about girls. But I mean, yeah, there’s nothing weird about masturbating a penis at all. It’s just an absolute physical need to calm down the guy… Here’s the thing they seriously don’t have this at all. They just do not have penises, the origin of all humans is extremely suspicious. You definitely have to be eating right and being a functional thing to have a penis. Anyways, there’s no fucking between the red fern or whatever the fuck youthful relationship in my life. There’s no skins. There’s no fucking love or joy or happiness at all, just small little glimpses at it. There’s just extremely brief conversations with completely socially inept loser females, who become flustered over literally anything, and the nightly occurrence of weird, visceral sex dreams. I don’t care about any of this. I don’t care about dreams. Dreams mean absolutely nothing to me, real life is everything to me, and you absolutely need to be able to talk for hours at a time, not injure yourself in your day to day life, learn about what any of this is with me in real time - all that shit. So anyways yes, there is a possibility a metric fuckload of human women have just completely had raw sex with me in my unconscious hours but just cannot answer to why they can’t hand me five dollars to this fucking day. You might see how this could be a problem - in reference to my extreme sexual capacity, which I’m really not joking about - I totally have the ability to completely cum in a virtually unending amount of beautiful women repeatedly and seem to have extreme physical urges to do this. You can buy this or not, but it’s the truth, and I’m doesn’t lie about things guy.  

          Anyways. You’ll find any paragraph by me is new and insightful, if you manage to read the words. It should be noted there is no shame in not knowing a new word… there is shame in failing to read it, especially to an author as fine as myself. And I will tell you these things, because I am the truth, the obvious truth, the way of the universe itself. To take the time to understand things. I refuse to explain more on how to learn words - figure it out. I just took a short visit to a local sex shop in the year 2023, to visit a tinder match and potential sexual partner. It is a joke… how obvious the whole penis thing is, quite difficult to everyone else, selling comically large dildos in huge amounts, not to mention the hilarious disgusting pathetic nature of porn and of all of humanity except just me. Funny. More evidence Mexicans have… not much going on down there. And to me, that’s what everyone else is… just pathetic Mexicans. A story of my life is that… I’m actually a very poor man. I’ve spent most of my life nowhere close to what can be considered rich, and of course everyone has wronged me in every way. However, I’ve lived the life of a patrician and have the regal visage to prove it, relying on my sense of smell, good business sense, natural intuition, sharp eyes and steady hands to keep my life nice and pleasant - eating finer foods than any other man to ever live, I dare say. 

          Now of course the legions of the actual poor, the plebeians, the stupid and ugly will be mad about this. But as the guy who kind of is the internet, I’m down to fix it for everyone and make it one hundred percent real - to open up the possibility of being, extremely rich at a young age and rewarding artistic talent and ingenuity properly. I’m on a bit of a tangent but you know what I mean. 

        Ah - a common theme in middle school. Erections. Throbbing erections. Cumming constantly. A wild puberty indeed. In sixth through eighth grade, I was popping boners at an unbelievable rate, I believe I’d masturbate 5-6 times a day. I would have to masturbate in the bathrooms, teased by the girls at my school in short shorts, an extremely popular fashion trend at Lindero, but too much for my penis to possibly take. An incident in math class. Emme was a couple seats away from me, very close. I always wear basketball shorts, even to this day. I have to masturbate my penis extremely literally, looking down her legs is way too enchanting, I’m doing it through my pants discreetly. I’m quite slick, and everyone is quite stupid, so I’m pretty sure they just didn’t notice. I came hard, stroking my penis through my pocket, a pocket - knock it, of sorts. There was hot cum on my leg and I tried to regain focus on school, what I did was just so wild. A friend notices a white viscous liquid on my leg, and points it out. He says, Jon you have something on your leg! He’s a dull asian from a no fun family, you know how insecure Asians are about their intelligence. Or lack of it? Obviously. I tell him it’s glue and make a play to how messy and lazy I am. He buys this explanation.

         I don’t feel any shame about this little incident. These girls are dressed like fucking whores. They’re in shorts that do not even cover their butt cheeks. They would wear ripped fucking shorts with their ass cheeks literally hanging out, in a middle school? As like a super regular thing. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world for me, but of course women are things that will dress like this then be like, woah, closed off, ready to shut you down. It is kind of awkward if the snail trail hypothesis is real, as studied by me in Milan in extremely retarded fashion. Basically, I put some of my own cum on my head as to see if it would help my skin and hair grow. I was then viscerally shocked to find my cum was extremely virile and alive, moving at extreme speeds, and that I really had no idea what this liquid was at all. There’s likely still my cum… alive inside my body, right now, I can feel it. Weird to talk about it… but life is very weird. I’m not approving of this. I’m not approving of how weird and strange and awful life is, I wish it was literally a perfect fairyland. But it’s not. It’s a terrible fucking hell scape, there’s no real limit to how fucking actually strange and just disgusting and terrible the other living organisms in this shared universe are. 

        Okay so… I’m basically positing my penis just deposits extremely virile, alive, heat seeking cum whenever I go and it possibly gets females pregnant. There’s also every single thing about what even a spoonful of this substance is. Yada yada fake penises. Yada artificial insemination. You know, the obvious reality for the conscious entity that is everyone else (humans). So were these girls kind of expressing something? Obviously. But whatever. 

       In any case I’m losing my mind over my middle school… lovers… also known as the sluts who would show up to school in this ridiculous(ly amazing) apparel… for an extremely heterosexual violent pervert like myself. I’m also referring to… wild dreams… with this red transfer student from the Midwest. Their outfits were really… a strip club to the max. By the way, this is just what being heterosexual is… like having sexuality… getting hot.. thinking about hot things… ready to lose it. It’s not like some act of dominance on you as a thing. I mean obviously anytime someone else thinks or talks or does sex, this is going to hurt you, you properly should view this as a challenge… there’s no limit to how much, sexual intercourse is the ecstasy of life… the cold hard truth. Fully blown raw sexual intercourse has absolutely nothing close to any match… I’m referring to the dreams hypothesis… a recurring theme. In the same fucking house, a stones throw from Willow Elementary, to this day. I can do things like this and this or this or this. Perhaps you’ll get that or you won’t, basically for each this I charged the word with a magic spell. Maybe it’ll work maybe it won’t… my hypothesis is, it will, and you’ll be impressed. I’m basically implying a person with any stealth at all could just walk in here and open their butthole or fucking less and I’m such a sex monster I might just fuck them raw completely unconscious. I have a hypothesis they, the conscious entity that may be fucking me in my sleep, girls, have been using extreme amounts of drugs resulting in my morning grogginess. I’m also theorizing it’s unlikely I’ve actually been raped by men due to cats and how they wouldn’t let this happen and just the laws of the universe and all aspects of Jonny meowcliffe religion. Or it’s a coping mechanism. In any case I’m the most wronged creature of all time so yeah. It is definitely proper to think of me as the one true messiah, the first and last coming of god, origin itself, the absolute highest truth, infinitely more memorable than any Christ, more directly powerful than any god in all the heavens of existence. And when you can say these kinds of things… with this kind of coherency and consistency… it makes you think, you’re literally the god of the universe and everyone is just as terrible as possible. Anyways? This is how my brain thinks at all times. But seriously, if you aren’t… seriously proud, of your sexual accomplishments… that’s not good. You absolutely need to do the exercise, competition, socialization, even animal worship… there’s just so many things you have to do in this life to be a functional thing. I’m not here to tell you life is an easy or always fun game, but it very well may be worthwhile. 

       Oh and the dreams… there was this tight assed Mormon girl who was quite nice to me. She was quite tall and beautiful, I was wildly sexually attracted to her and still am. She would wear this extremely tight jeans and it wasn’t the worst thing in the world, we had a class together. She was a common theme in my dreams and I still have dreams of this girl to this day. Oh and the girl from the Midwest… she bullied me once. She was claiming I wrote her friends name on her leg, like Jonathan plus Megan forever. This wasn’t true, a total delusion, I was probably drawing a cat or some creature. Or I did. Who the fuck cares? Do you have any idea how open my body language is at all times? How terrible everyone else is at sex? A chick could just hop on me and I’d be like yeah. But like? They’re weird about it? And it’s not hard to understand why. I’m literally a morally perfect specimen… if you’re anything less than this, when you face me, and how truly beautiful and incredible I am in every single way, it’s not hard to understand you’ll blunder, stumble, overwhelmed by shame of your inferiority. Anyways… there were a couple incidents with the weird piggy mid western girl. I mean she was super hot, insanely hot, and she would dress like such a slut it was mind boggling. She had this bullying incident, yelling at me for whatever reason, and I just kind of walked away since I don’t know what these are. We had this recurring dream where… she would drop her shorts to her feet and id be inside the hole, you know like having wild sex. That’s all I am, guys, I’m just fucking actually such a depraved heterosexual monster it boggles the mind, if you had any idea what I’m actually ready to do to you guys like at all times, it’s truly incredible, how much death and destruction and rape I could accomplish anytime I feel like breaking even a single law. 

        Oh yeah, I did strings in middle school. I started out at bass, I probably should have stayed due to the close proximity with this cute girl, but I left to the cello section. Matias was here. Matias can’t complain about shit since everyone else is a scum police embezzling suppressing mark zuckerburg loving homosexual, so we can just talk about them. Matias was a viola, he was pretty good. Richard was a violinist, a remarkably terrible violinist if I’m not mistaken. I moved to the cello, there was one girl I somewhat liked in the cello section, and of course… I was jarringly good. As with all organized things, it had to be ruined by the homosexual. I had some time as first chair… earning it in masked competitions, they likely rigged later. It’s been as clear as possible everyone else just is as against me as possible, it being their natural state. Anyways, we had the triplets, the Latina triplets, in strings. I viewed the class as my practice. Obviously I ended up as the greatest musician who ever lived so… I’m sure I could pick it up again. I learned the cello suite. People will tell you the cello suite is boring, overdone. It’s not. They’re obviously just jealous of your mad skills, that’s an amazing thing to do. I’d play a cello again… if I had space, and money, and cleanliness. Fun fact about Matias… I had lived my whole thing believing this thing had a bigger penis than me, it is what I was led to believe. However it had always been obvious I was violently attractive to women… them becoming as stupid of imbeciles as possible around me, acting as retarded and as in relation to me as they possibly can. Likely in order to make me jealous… make me, you know, break a crime even once… something that still just hasn’t happened at all. Funny how life is like that. Like seriously, I seriously question why it’s like I’m just an intelligent form of life and then everyone else is as retarded and awful about every little adverse emotion in their lives as possible. It took my quite awhile to hang out with Matias, actually. Like, I never hung out with people. I had a couple play dates I didn’t like in elementary school and didn’t hang out again until eighth grade. We will get more on that later. I did a seriously jarring amount of things in middle school, my reading level is actually ridiculous. If I’m not mistaken I had… Lord of The Rings… both one and two… on my damn desk, in the fourth grade. And if I have a book, I’m reading it! My reading accomplishments are truly extraordinary, and obviously it shows in every single line I write, my mentors got so destroyed in this so fast just by the twitter. And I’m positing, language is just a form of expression, sounds, rah rah ooh rah rah, a primal form of human expression. Grammar… spelling.. they matter, but what really matters is these.. the words… they are like potent psychedelic fuel, the gift of intelligence itself, of contemplation. Ah, and my reading was briefly.. absolutely incredible in middle school. Well… not so briefly. Basically throughout all of middle school except the last half of eighth grade I was a reading extraordinaire. We had all the young adult novels… middle school was my young adult novel time. 

         There’s no limit to how… interesting… middle school was in hindsight, and how much this strange experience affected me in my development. Ah, the young adult novels, the faint sniff of love, the Percy Jackson books, Enders game, and all of its sequels. I would read this as the sun went down in the yard, on a hammock, for hours. Dystopian novels… so many beautiful times, laying on a hammock in my yard, experiencing these books as a young man. Ender’s game is a super interesting work by humans, and I believe it’s sequels are also amazing, and also the alternate series involving Ender’s rival, bean. It involves a young man who is a strategic mastermind, and he is used by the government to exterminate a race of aliens without his knowledge, resulting in him being known through all of time as Ender. There is an obvious parallel to my video game playing, the fact I’m the only person seriously doing it, my absolutely mind boggling superiority, and what the conscious entity who is everyone else does with this information, this programming, this display of how to kill ruthlessly and efficiently. And I don’t care. Since we’ve established I’m basically as nazi as possible to all humans and even suspicious of some animals, in regards to being on the chopping block for extermination. I hope all other humans are exterminated as fast as possible if they’ve purposefully spit in food even once. Obviously. That’s some seriously weird shit to do, and we’re not gonna devolve into entertaining these ideas. 

        I had many… weird lives involving no physical touching, crushes in middle school, too many to list. There was Karen, a girl from elementary, and I had a vivid fantasy she came to visit me for wild romance and sex on a trip to Mexico… another dream. Brooke, a big booty Texas looker, all these girls wore this country short shorts outfit I’ve described. The environment was so much better, here in 2023 the world is in shambles in the light of my wildly successful 2022, I lay here a husk of my formal self… still as good as I can do. There are no more schools, man. I just don’t think it’s real at all after the pandemic. There’s no cleanliness, there’s no nice evenings reading under the palm trees as the sun sets, tanning myself in a waking dream. But there is writing… and my possible resurgence, which could easily happen, obviously. 

         Who else… oh, the teachers, of course. Ms. Cortina was a hot, milf who taught my history classes who I became separated from in eighth grade. I had her for 6th and 7th. I was extremely hot for her. She was like half Latina, half Italian or something. She went to Stanford. Stanford was a big thing to her. She was like, responsible for this thing called Old Worlde Fair, the idea that would later become the EZ home, EZ ups with blanket walls. Students would make these and some kind of project from ancient civilizations and trade them, if I’m not mistaken. It was pretty fun. She taught us many interesting things, like Mesopotamia, the origins of human civilization, Egypt, Egyptian Gods, Greek and Roman civilizations - it was quite nice to not focus on America for the two years. I am of course, sexualizing any woman in front of me who is even remotely attractive as much as possible, and I mean it goes without saying I had many dreams of this woman. There was also the science teacher… in 7th grade. I was extremely attracted tk her. She was really a sexual fantasy, like a very sexy granny, with this short haircut and blonde grey hair. She would wear glasses and had a nice way of carrying herself, and a beautiful body. She taught us about sex. She explained a man would be “full” of cum after 2 weeks… I scoffed, seeing how yeah I masturbated 5-6 times a day in middle school, unable to process how I could possibly be okay with that little stimulation. Anyways, yeah, she was pretty hot. In this class, some girl implied this ugly oaf of a girl would be a remotely good fit for me, and I was so offended I just like shunned everyone. However, I’m really shunning everyone, always. I take one look at someone and if their energy is… bad, or human in other words, lame and pathetic, I look away and don’t look back, because there’s nothing to see. 

       In eighth grade I had Ms. Barnes, who had the milkiest, biggest titties I’d ever seen. She would wear this cute black outfit that I loved. She would have her tits out virtually every class. She was very pale, Germanic or English, blonde, nice eyes, soft and large. I had a dream her and Megan, the transfer from 5th grade, came to visit me in a three way, masturbating my cock to my sexual fantasy after not cumming for 3 days in Canada. These are my memories - the most visceral facts of my life. She taught us social studies, the words they use to describe history, and we learned of America. We would sometimes watch movies in class. It was quite nice. 

       So, in eighth grade, my reading kind of steamrolled and then came to a grinding halt. I read all of Game of Thrones in a matter of weeks… maybe less, and claimed 1,000 AR (advanced reading if I’m not mistaken) points at the beginning of the semester. You’re only supposed to get 20… showing how hilariously inferior everyone else’s intelligence is. I proceeded to become bored of literature after reading these interesting, shocking books, and became more interested in losing weight and playing basketball. A notable memory is that after 1,000 hours of team fortress two gameplay, I sat at my computer, wondering what the hell I was doing with my life, how I got so fat, and decided I had to quit cold turkey. So I did. The game was boring, it wasn’t the same, and I was sick of it and needed to be in shape to find love, attract a mate. So I became quite into basketball and sports in general in 8th grade, shaving my head to emulate Kobe Bryant, a famous basketball player for my home basketball team, The Los Angeles Lakers.