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JAN 4 2025: so my only question is did the cashier have to squeeze my toast like that? like bro the line isn't even that big. you can take your time. i'm used to a little bit of a squeeze, the same way i'm used to the way you guys toss around my chips as if they're made of iron, but that was just too far. i wouldve done self checkout but yall dont have that here.

and now i'm home looking at this injured loaf of toast bread with a bigass indent in the middle. i'm dreading the day when i make enough sandwiches that i have to actually use those middle loafs. they look like funhouse mirror versions of toast. they just won't have sufficient area for me to spread my peanut butter and jelly, or my mayounnaise.

sigh. actually, nevermind. im sorry man (to the cashier). i know you have a tough job. they understaff and overwork you there. i've been there and i have done that as well. it can't be easy. human beings shouldn't even be cashiers. it's evil to make a human being do that. at least when i was a cashiering i was doing it at guitar center, where i got to hear exclusive local renditions of the 70s and 80s greatest hits while i was doing it. you have to listen to christmas music on january the fourth. and they don't even play wham anymore. probably because it's too soulful and therefore too distracting from the ideal shopping experience.

rip george michael.

DEC 26 2025: ok i got chatango working. nice. now all my website needs is some illegally hosted anime and it will feel complete.

DEC 25 2025: i used to care so much about customizing my profile pictures. whatever they would let me customize i would take advantage of. you could tell my mood by the anime character who represented me that week. takamura mamoru when i was feeling like the boss. sendo or sakuragi hanamichi when i was feeling like the underdog. don patch when i was feeling like a bum (in a funny way). gintoki when i was feeling like a bum (and really going thru it).

i've been on the same picture of aizen for like 7 years now. this is pre-betrayal aizen. he's looking straight at you with his long hair and his glasses, and the facade is barely holding together.

i picked it at the time because i thought, with my relaxed hair and thick black-rimmed glasses, i looked kinda like him. i have a buzz cut now and i still can't bring myself to change it.

i'm trying to think if it grew on me or if i grew into it. i always loved mischievious characters, even if i do spell that word wrong on purpose all the time. it really feels like there should be an "i" after that "v." i pronounce it like that in my head too. pronounciation is another word that feels like it should have an extra letter. like why pronunciation. where did the "o" go? i really need to get into linguistics. i can't let alan moore and george carlin and james joyce have all the fun.

i guess it's funny to imagine myself as aizen, but doing things much much stupider than he ever would have, but still thinking i'm some kind of 10d chess-playing genius.

aizen is just my profile pic on discord though. on other socials i haven't decided if i like dennis rodman with the map of rio de janeiro on his face or if i like sakuragi hanamichi more. i feel equally represented by both. i think takehiko inoue partially based sakuragi hanamichi on dennis rodman. at least that's what everyone says.

i guess i just don't know what my archetype is. i try to resist the endless scrolling. i conquered ig reels. the last thing i need to conquer is twitter. i want to delete my account but i feel like if i delete it before everyone screenshots all the funny shit i said back then, i'll lose all that funny shit forever.

i feel like the endless scrolling just sort of shaves away at your personality. it makes you a passive observer of things. it makes you look at people doing things you want to do and think, "that looks cool. i'm totally the kind of person who would do that thing." and then keep scrolling and not even think about making a plan to do that thing.

i don't feel tortured enough to be a starving artist. i don't feel academic enough to be a great scholar. i feel like i just wanna bike across the world. like i just wanna take my backpack and a bicycle and just head out there and see what i can make of the world.

of course, this is wishful thinking. how would i protect the contents of my bag from the elements? i need a backpack that can handle the rain. or maybe i should give up on the bicycle thing and get a vespa. hmmm. i like those moroccan motorcycles that have pedals for you to use as a bike if you want. i feel like i should get one of those.

there's so many projects i really want to do before i turn 30 and get too old for them. most of them are film projects that require me to act as certain characters. i really don't wanna miss out on the opportunity to act as these characters. i don't even necessarily have crazy acting ambitions. i just wanna act as these specific characters from these scripts i wrote. i don't even know if the movies would be any good.

but once i accomplish all my pre-30 dreams (memorize the qur'an, film these two movies, finish this short story series) i wanna just travel and read. borders might pose a problem, but i would hope not. i'd like to just bike around and stop every once in a while just to read a good book. maybe i'm idealizing this whole thing too much, but i kind of look forward to an adventure going wrong and actually having something to say about what i did. i've lived a pretty sheltered life, and now i'm in my mid-20s. i kind of want to struggle a bit.

i guess what i'm trying to get at with the profile picture thing is, i don't feel like a complete person. i haven't struggled enough. i don't know what my profile picture should be. maybe i struck gold with aizen and dennis rodman and sakuragi hanamichi. maybe i shouldn't care. what i do know is this: my new years resolution for 2026, 2027, and every year after, is to struggle more.

i want to be more uncomfortable. i want to risk my meager savings on a project that might fail. i want to spontaneously make a decision that puts my future at risk. i want to read at least 40 books, play at least 30 games, and watch at least 20 movies/tv shows that i've been putting off for over a decade at this point. i want to get into poetry finally. enough is enough, man.

it's not entirely my fault that my early-20s went to waste. there's a lot of things that happened. can't really remember. that whole time period is a blur. but i can definitely afford to be less wise and more reckless. or, i guess i can't afford to be that financially, but it doesn't look like those polar ice caps care very much about the interest rates on our bank accounts. rude of them, sure, but at some point we gotta learn to take a hint.

SEP 2 2025: i made a new soundcloud and put some songs on there. ive been working on music. not neglecting vids im just gettin back into it. i think im pretty good at guitar and singing. and im decent at rapping just wait bro im finna go crazy.

ive been missing my friend uzi a lot recently. he died january of this year. the first close friend i ever lost like that. it weighs on my mind so much these days for some reason. may Allah rest his soul.

APR 6 2025: met an interesting character again. this guy had the craziest moustache of all time. he talked to me for hours trying to teach me that 1970s rizz. his amazing idea: you get a light up device and go to a party and stand near a girl that intrigues you (his words).

then, you pull out the device and make it light up. the girl will then take notice of you and ask what the hell is going on. at which point you respond: "it's a very strong magnet. i brought it here so that it would guide me to someone with a magnetic personality." i'm paraphrasing here, but you get the point.

he was certain this would be a hit. so certain that he asked many women in their 20s about this idea, to which they all responded favourably. "the thing is to be different. girls like to see a guy who thinks outside the box."

after this, he tried pitching me his tattoo idea. "you get the words 'armed and dangerous' tattooed on your tricep. that way, even if it's not true, as in, if you don't have a firearm on you, it still functions as a joke!"

then he mentioned how his sister had a phd in arabic and converted to islam, so he's super woke about palestine now. he spent half an hour on the palestine issue alone.

i took out some receipt paper and a pen and drew him as i saw him. if i drew him earlier he wouldve looked happier, but the palestine situation has him feeling down. it has any normal human being feeling down.

i hope to see him again some day.

APR 5 2025: met an interesting character today at work. i was ringing this elderly gentleman out for an interface when he casually mentioned: "i'm making a song about michael jackson."

i said: "that's cool, dude."

"he's still alive you know."

ok man. i'll bite.

so he taught me about how mj didn't actually die but was taken into witness protection as part of a secret operation called "gone with the wind." and elvis didn't actually die either and is actually secretly a guy named pastor bob who has the same face, voice, and hands as elvis. they had to "gone with the wind" him after he took down the mafia. and prince is secretly his sister tyka.

then he showed me some of his art. the guy was a fantastic painter. and he drew some marvel comics too. he carried all his art around printed out and in a portfolio.

then, two hours later, we're closing the store, and the guy drives by and yells my name. he waves some papers and he's like "i got these for you!" turns out he spent the last two hours in the parking lot writing his theories down on some printouts he had. he prints everything at the library. super off the grid. "anyone with an open mind, i'll share the knowledge."

exhibit a:

i would like to direct the reader's attention to the bottom of the page, where the gentleman posits his theory that trump is the grandson of ww2 general patton, before being adopted by john trump, and that trump is a cousin of elvis, julian assange, nikola tesla, and the kennedies.

then, to the right of that, his theory that abraham lincoln was black and that his opponents ridiculed him by calling him abraham africanus. he sent one of his sons to saudi arabia to be raised by one "hoolihan."

exhibit b:

and exhibit c:

look how many dead celebrities are actually still alive. people just don't die anymore. they get gone with the winded and put in witness protection, which i imagine is some kind of adrenochrome purgatory. like man, what do you mean andre the giant is still alive? you can't hide that guy!

anyways, i have decided to buy into this completely. maybe one day i will take down a mafia of kids who commit credit card fraud, and they'll gone with the wind me over to albuquerque, new mexico to protect me from the vengeance of the mob. but of course i'll need a new youtube channel, just so people can know that i'm actually still alive, just chinese now.

NOV 1 2024: i fumbled a milf at work today. i completed the transaction too efficiently. i got her out of the store too fast. my priorities are becoming corporatized. the company colours spread across my soul like a symbiote. i no longer recognize the man i see in the mirror. he is cold, unfeeling, and he wants to sell me warranty.

i used to avoid my manager's attention by listening for the sound of his footsteps and maneuvering the halls like a weasel to minimize contact. i used to test out merchandise on the floor. i used to jerk off in the company bathroom. now i am the company bathroom. jerk off on me, oh noble customer. and if you get the 5 year warranty, you don't even have to wipe.

OCT 30 2024: THE GREAT DEMOCRATIC EDGING i met bill clinton today. i had to go to one of those "get out the vote" rallies for the harris-walz campaign because my job required me to. for the record, i never gave a shit about harris or walz or anyone that came before them. but bill clinton is a big name and this is a small town.

i arrived and everyone there was dressed in their tuesday best. harris-walz shirts. harris-walz hats. harris-walz signs. as if they were all afraid they would forget who they were voting for. one man wore a shirt that said in big bold letters: "fuck trump and fuck you for voting for him". he got a lot of compliments on it, probably because he wore it at the wrong event.

they were playing mix of several generations of pop music. motown. electropop. rnb (the new kind). but there was only one generation of people there. old. the few young people there were just the children of the old people there.

the lead-up to bill clinton saw a bunch of state and local politicians taking the podium to say things that everyone there already agreed with. a lot of "this is the most important election in our country's history." i really wish we would stop having those. a lot of "women's reproductive rights" which harris failed to protect 2 years ago. a lot of "worker's rights" but my job didn't stop fucking me after biden and harris got elected.

the most interesting part of the event, to me, is in the 15 minutes that took place between bill's arrival by bus and his eventual stepping out of it.

everyone knew bill would show up. it was what they all came for. the turnout wouldn't be nearly what it was if bill didn't say he was coming. it was only a matter of time.

3:54 PM. the police cars and motorcycles leading bill's bus can be seen from down the street. everyone cheers for the red and blue lights. the cheering sounds more like screaming because most of the people there are women. and those women are all baby boomers. bill was their president. his bus, a harris-walz-branded affair, pulls in to the sound of already by beyonce. as the bus pulls up to the podium, the song switches to abc by the jackson 5. it's the perfect roll out. a figure walks up to the bus door. the people are cheering. through the window, we see him. the people go wild. it's not bill clinton. it's some other guy who tells the bus driver to scoot forward a few feet.

3:55 PM. the guy motions for the bus driver to scoot forward a little bit more. at this point the "ABC! easy as 1-2-3!" chorus has already kicked in. there is still no sign of the billster. but it is at this point... that the bus driver has decided he's gone a few feet too far, and he decides to back up. ok. perfect bus positioning for optimum disembarkation. but now... for real this time... the door opens! the crowd goes wild! again! the guy who was telling the bus driver where to park gets off first. "get out of the way, you balding fuck!" you can almost hear them say, if you open your heart to their screams.

3:56 PM. the bald guy has more than gotten out of the way at this point, and the people are still screaming at the open bus door. they want bill! they won't take anything less than bill! the security guy shuts the door. but just before he finishes closing it, a guy starts walking down the stairs! he's way too young to be bill clinton! the ladies cut their screams off before they leave their throats. a lady follows the young guy down the stairs, and they both take their places amidst the anticipating horde. the balding guy opens the door back up again to go inside, and a single woman lets out a "woo!" that she just couldn't hold back. it was torturing her. maybe she believed it would accelerate the process. coax bill out of his vessel. no matter how you slice it, it was an unearned "woo!" and she shamed herself.

3:57 PM. the security guy opens the bus door, and a man entirely the wrong race pokes his head out of the doorway, speaking into his phone or his mic or whatever. he steps out, and then the young man and the woman both get back on the bus.

3:58 PM. by now, the jackson 5 song has been over for almost a whole minute. if bill walks out to smooth sailing by leon bridges, then this is going to suck complete and total shit. who even put this song in the playlist? it took all the energy out of the room. i don't like to get too emotional but god this song sucks fucking dick.

3:59 PM. is it smooth sailing? is it really?

4:00 PM. make the song stop.

4:01 PM. holy shit. mr brightside by the killers. yes. please yes. please god make bill walk out to this song. it's so perfect. i can't explain exactly how, but it would be a perfect moment that i would happen to catch on camera if it occured. like, it's impossible to explain without seeing it for yourself. now, i am convinced that this occurence is going to be a historic moment. one for people to remember, at least in my discord group chat. in this moment, i am one with the horde. the security guard opens the door. i'm cheering right alongside my sisters. "woo!" i say. "we want bill!" i think. and feel. slick willie has that effect on people, doesn't he? he makes them desire him. a guy walks into the bus and the security guard closes the door.

4:02 PM. suddenly, a figure materializes behind the bus door window. the security guard opens it. we're cheering! we're ready! give me bill or give me death! it's a woman. death. and some photographer guy. death.

4:03 PM. come on bill. the song is almost up. your chance to be a part of history is almost over.

4:04 PM. he missed it. the bastard missed it. my time in the horde is cut short. i am ashamed of my participation. they're playing a diana ross song now. i love diana ross' stuff with the supremes but i don't know this song. but that's beside the point. the horde is still hungry. the crowd aches to cheer. they would cheer for a mosquito at this point. their legs are tired. their fists ache from the vise grip they've been clutching the railing with. but still, they labour for their billoved.

4:05 PM. still nothing. the women are borderline frothing at the mouth at this point. every once in a while, one of them will give a "woo!" in the hopes that it will reach bill's ears through that impenetrable bus shell, but to no avail. he is beyond your voice, gretchen. wrap it up.

4:06 PM. you wonder why they brought the bus up if the preparation was gonna take this long. what's going on behind those harris-walz-brand windows? it had to have been unexpected. they knew what the sight of the bill clinton bus would do to people. they must have known, right? if bill wasn't prepared to step out then they should've kept the bus back where no one could see it. this is an outdoor venue. you can't just bring the bus to the location and keep it there with bill inside it and all eyes on it for this long. the people want to cheer for something. this is an event designed for people to cheer, and over 10 minutes have passed since someone last cheered for something. that's wrong. it's like being in a waveless ocean.

4:07 PM. the people realize some kind of joke is being played on them, by bill, by security, or by god. and yet, still, they hold their impulses prisoner to their discipline. a pact has been formed. not a moment of exclamation until bill himself steps off that goddamn bus. like chain against captive flesh. restrain. good. eager, yes. but hold. you will have your reward.

4:08 PM. the security guard opens the door, but the people have been trained. they know not to open their mouths until their food arrives. a young man steps off. following him, a man entirely the wrong race, once again, this time another politician. he walks out to the sound of diana ross' singing. bill walks out. the song abruptly and awkwardly changes to abc by the jackson 5 again. wait, bill walked out?

4:09 PM. if you could hear the scream that one lady made when bill first stepped off the bus. she was all the way at the back and the room was packed but i still jolted to see if someone was screaming right in my ear. the rest of the women followed suit. and then, the few men who were there. not me. my time had passed. this was their moment in the sun. the everblue vanguard. their trained mouths opened and they accepted their food.

the rest of the event was pretty boring. more stuff about why trump sucks and you should vote for harris. the guy who talked right before bill made an interesting point about how "harris will make an america where working class people don't just get by, but get ahead." my burning question is: "ahead of who?"

bill talks older than trump these days, even though he's a few months younger. his speech lasted for fucking ever and the people could never tell when to start clapping or cheering. one woman interrupted him to say "we miss you bill!" and everyone cheered. one woman interrupted him after to say "we love you bill!" everyone cheered harder. harder than they did at anything he had to say, which honestly wasn't much. he rambled back and forth the exact same way trump and biden do when they start sundowning.

the whole time, no one said anything about palestine. bill mentioned ukraine, but he didn't mention palestine or lebanon, both of whom are under invasion by israel. i asked bill after the show if he'd give some comment about palestine. he said "yes!" and then proceeded to give me a full minute of politician-babble of a lower caliber than the half-hour of rehearsed politician-babble he subjected us all to earlier, followed by a vague gesture at harris being able to get "it" done. "it" being the nebulous concept of peace in the middle east. something to be aimed for but never aimed very well because there's no point in trying. you'll never hit it so long as you're president.

at the same time this was all happening, 6,000 miles away, israel dropped another united states funded bomb on a north gaza building, killing at minimum 60 people, at least 25 of whom were kids.

OCT 23 2024: up late remembering that one engineering class i had back in 8th grade. we had to make a bridge out of popsicle sticks and it had to withstand 10 pounds of weight or some bullshit. but the teacher accidentally stepped on the bridge me and my friend were making! and he would not acknowledge it!

you bastard! what did my poor bridge do to you! fail me on the assignment, okay, but apologize for my goddamn bridge you fucker! it's your fault i'm poor and not an engineer right now! i'm not actually poor but i could be making 6 figures and you trampled on my dreams the day you trampled on that bridge! my ambitions were my whole life and they were shattered by your careless gait!

my only recourse after the Bridge of my Eternal Dreaming was destroyed was to get irreparably into anime. god, why did we decide to put that bridge on the floor?

maybe one day you will all forgive me for my anime videos.

JUL 22 2024: i made a 2nd channel. all the populars are doing it, so i will do it too. anytime i get an idea for something that is unworthy of the main channel, i will do it here.

as of right now, the only vid on it is me opening digimon cards. first trading cards ive opened since 2007 when i lived in egypt and my mom would get me yugioh cards as a gift when i got good grades. those yugioh cards were in arabic. they mightve been fake. if they were it doesn't matter. they were very cheap. yeah, thinking about it, they probably were fake because this shit is expensive as hell. a box of trading cards is more expensive than a video game. what kid would want this shit? you need a job to be invested in this stuff.

the kids at school would steal my yugioh cards. i never found the kid who stole it, but i got in a lot of fights with a lot of different guys and made a lot of enemies over it. you could think of me as a 3rd grader version of philip marlowe, trying to track down the villain in a world where all there is is villains. a corrupt world, where the teachers wouldn't help me and the principal would hit me with a ruler or a meterstick and the lunch lady would sell me bad pizza that made me vomit.

at that school if you were bad enough they'd make you go up the next morning during assembly in front of everyone and make you hold your hands out and smack your hands with a cane. the cane was super thin and would feel like it was cutting on your hands, but of course you wouldnt bleed. at least i didnt, idk if anyone else did. i cant believe it was allowed in the 21st century.

let that be a lesson to you. there is no justice in this world. if someone steals your yugioh cards, youre fucked. but that doesnt mean you take it lying down. the teachers might whip your hands but you can at least get your revenge and rip up *****'s slifer the sky dragon. nobody gets yugioh cards now.

i'm having a lot of fun with my second channel. i can post the funny characters i make in photo booth and the music i make that i don't want on spotify and book reviews that no one on my main channel cares about.

APR 22 2024: im trying to stay off social media but i keep seeing posts from people who play dnd regularly. i have always wanted to play it so bad but i never got to. in quarantine me and my friends were supposed to have a campaign together and i made a character who was an old orc man with a name that i later learned is an antisemitic slur. the campaign fell through for reasons completely unrelated to the name and i still haven't had a chance to use that character yet. i remember rolling for his stats and getting so many 1s and 2s in a row that he's basically a useless sack of shit. i changed his name since then. he's still sitting in a coma in my nightstand until his adventure comes. and no one ever got to see the penis i gave him.

in the meantime i've been reading those old dnd books. the very old ones from like the 70s and 80s and shit. classic stuff. id love to go on one of these campaigns. i love the big eyeball guys. witnessers or whatever the fuck. i wanna have the experience of this truly imaginative gameplay but it evades me.

MAR 8 2024: i was doomed from the age of 3. maybe 4. i can't remember exactly how old i was. all i remember was the orange gi, the spiky hair, the cream yellow nimbus cutting across the blue television sky, watching the first sunset of my life with my father on the corniche and learning that the sun really does move, blue wristbands, the taste of peach danone thick on my tongue, yamcha's battle scars, mcdonalds fries, cha la head cha la, and the real life almost-television-blue moroccan sky that i kept a close eye on just in case the yellow nimbus crossed over.

something happened to me that summer in morocco. i wasn't a real person. then i watched dragon ball, and all of a sudden, i was. every action i have taken in my life since then has been in service of dragon ball, the thing that gave me sentience. i've gone down some wrong paths, but i have always found my way back out.

many things from your childhood grow and change with you. for me, that has been stuff like spongebob, which i have found new appreciation for in adulthood. avatar, which i don't really care as much about anymore. power rangers, which is almost impossible for me to watch now, but which i still appreciate from a distance. not dragon ball. never dragon ball. it is the one thing that refuses to change, whether i want it to or not. no matter how old i am, when i sit down in front of the screen to watch anything from dragon ball, dragon ball z, or even sometimes dragon ball gt. whether it's in english, arabic, japanese, or french. whether it's the kikuchi score or the faulconer score. it never grows with me. rather, it turns me into a child. every time, without fail.

when i'm not watching dragon ball, i find it easy to criticize. "what about this plot hole?" "what about this contrivance?" "why is this part paced like this?" "the animation in this episode so janky!" but dragon ball has an immunity. a power that takes hold of me whenever i am once again entranced by its majesty. all criticism turns to dust. no matter how long the goku vs frieza fight is, i watch it unabridged. every single time. "why is this part paced like this?" because it must be. it justifies itself. this is a fight between one of the final members of a genocided race and the orchestrator of the genocide. it would be an insult to reduce it to a two episode ordeal.

sometimes i worry about the power dragon ball has over me. certainly, there is an argument that it holds me back. that this unbreakable tether keeps me from properly moving on into adulthood. i was ruined from childhood when dragon ball became not just my reason for life, but my life. maybe there is some scientific explanation. that i "imprinted" on something i perceived to be a third parent. what does it matter? no woman i have ever made love to has ever inspired in my heart the ecstasy i feel when i hear the dragon ball movie guitar track. no sunset i have witnessed has ever shaken the bedrock of my soul as the sunset on the moroccan atlantic.

now, i am a "writer". who doesn't write? we are all writers. no. i am a man on a mission. a mission encoded into my being when i was 3 or 4 years old. i have to make art. the art doesn't have to be popular, it just needs to have the potential. the potential to hypnotize a child and breathe life into them the way life was breathed into me 2 decades ago. i am, essentially, on a God-given mission to ruin a child's life the way my life was ruined. and maybe, to ruin some adults' lives too. is that an honourable goal? on the surface, it seems that i just want to make a fun story that children will love. but what i want is more than that. i want people out there to feel what i feel. to be moved to tears at the sight of a yellow cloud or the taste of a peach yogurt drink. to be brought to their knees at the sound of an ambient synthesizer or an ocean wave.

that's not to say i only make art for kids, or that i wanna tap into the manchild market. rather, i want to make manchildren out of men. i want to pass on the spirit. the breath. the word. of course, i also want desperately to communicate with other adults on a genuine level. to be on the same level as them. and i'll keep on trying. but deep down, in the soul that i was gifted by akira toriyama, i know that my sunset won't ever end.

JAN 23 2024: i was so happy to be almost finished with my research when i discovered a 500 page sociology book and a 43 volume manga to add to the list of things i have to read. the sociology book i have to read the entirety of, that's not even a question. the 43 volume manga, idk. i might have to drop that at some point but i dont know where to drop it. why was this the one that had to be fully translated? meanwhile we don't even have a single chapter of ****** *******. thank god i got both snake skins in just an hour and a half so i can put fortnite down for the rest of the season and just grind this video out. really hoping for a february release. if it reaches march i might just lash myself with one of those blade whips the shias use.

DEC 23 2023: who else was up at 3:00 AM EST on this day? i will probably be up for 2 or 3 hours more. you know that feeling when youre vacuuming your room and everytime you think "im just gonna do this part and it's gonna take 5 minutes" but you end up vacuuming everything anyways and it takes 30 minutes? that is the feeling of researching for this vid. every time i think i wrapped up a section i find some new shit to learn about and i always get scared im gonna miss something if i dont read it thoroughly front to back. already the things i have left unfinished haunt me. what if i miss out on a crucial piece of information? it's like the fomo i get from a fortnite battle pass. this was the first battle pass i got since the one with doom guy, and i did it all for snake. peter is cool but i want snake and i want the 2nd snake skin to be old snake from mgs4. and i want them to add raiden sometime. why did fortnite have to make the game so much better when im so close to wrapping up this project? i wanna move on and work on other things i have planned but i love this subject im researching and i wanna spend time on it to do it justice.

also, honestly im not married to the idea of a chatroom in my website i just need to think of something better to put in its place for the time being.

DEC 8 2023: why did i put a chatroom here despite i have no audience? i miss chatango. it used to be on every anime site. great way to get to know weirdos.

anyways i put out my book today. mark december 8 2023 as the day i released my first novel. it's very messy. if i were to do it all over again right now, i would focus it a lot more. but then it wouldn't be the amateurish juvenile story that i love so much. and also i already scrapped and rewrote it 4 times and i just wanted to move on. the version i started writing in january 2021 is so different and so bad. im so happy i managed to rescue something out of the slop i was churning out back then. i can't believe it took me 2 years to put it out. i really thought i would've finished so many more books by now. there is so much to do and we have so little time.

NOV 27 2023: hola. i called myself saint deleter because i wanted an author name with 2 names. if youre reading this deep into the future then perhaps you have scrolled way way way down. i think it's cool to have an author name that's basically just a username. it attracts attention. it's new. on the edge. it fits my flashy personality. maybe one day i'll find the confidence to wear that cool looking jacket i spent $20 on.