Butter in a pan, Dont be a clown...

Weigh 8oz meat balls, smash them shits down

Screaming high heat oughta do it with ease

No cheddar or Gouda, use kraft single cheese

Have bacon ready- fried real crisp

White onion rings sliced thin and brisk

Salt, pepper, garlic, don't be dumb

Spread skippy or jif on a toasted white bun

Nothing else at all, keep it simple and plain

And watch your friends' faces go from confused to insane

(In a good way)

I'm hungry, but I really don't know what to eat

Something's on the burner but it's sort of out of reach

I'm tired, but I really don't know where to sleep

'cause the majority is swarming and there ain't an empty seat

See I'm partially informed, but I still feel sorta stupid

Due to the tongues of tribal ones making loners really clueless

My imagination is an old, crippled crab

Slowly going mad, resentful of its past....

Contrary to popular belief,

This shit is not dead but it's glued to the sheets,

I wouldn't be surprised if it died and in its sleep,

From trauma to the head that will lie through its teeth,

So as we try to resuscitate this shit that's in our blood,

Slapping it in the face until it wakes the fuck up,

Trying to teach these marked fuckin clowns to show love,

To these unorthodox arts that raised us,

I can portray stupidity in a verse and still kill it,

I can be the hero, narrator and the villain,

I could pick apart everything that you claim to be true grit,

mcgthesource, Bad Planet Mus-

The absolute, most fickle of them all,

Half box red, flames 2 inch tall,

Time's a bloodthirsty beast, solidity's at stake,

You must keep yourself whole, or it is you she will break,

Reduce her to half, then back off,

Aromatics are then added with lipids to make a bond,

Acclimate right, control the fire proper,

Patience is a virtue with her so return softer,

Keep the show moving, offer only bits when it's tight,

Strain and keep her warm, she's only yours for the night....

{Don't walk away for too long}

---

{ Even though the disclaimers are made, it's still hard to believe you. Because you show such promise. You show the best and take it away. And even though it isn't intentional, it doesn't matter. It hurts the other person and you can't justify your reason. Because it does not hold enough weight. Because the other person isn't YOU. They only interpret shit from their own origin. You said you obliviously live in your head but you're supposed to handle it better. You've done better. You're fearless but also kind of scared. It's so puzzling. There's no way for the other person to decipher it except that maybe you're being malicious or passive aggressive. You're a heavy plate maker and everybody knows bro. But if you want to keep someone, ya gatta make more room for other people's feelings. Enough to validate them consistently. Do better. It doesn't matter how attractive, funny, clever or talented you are. No one will stay if you refuse to see your accountability through. Not 3/4. Not almost. The traits mentioned only keep doors cracked. They don't build foundations. "Upgrade your gray matter, cuz one day it may matter." Goodnight.

And Chase a little harder. }

---

🤷🏾

Is this really what she said? I'm seriously rethinking some shit now 🤔

I am going to share a post with you all.

This post is beautifully written. It is, for lack of a better word, "perfect". It's undisputedly my favorite piece from, r/unsentletters of all time. It's so well written in fact, that it is arguably what started my dark reddit spiral in the middle of April. It made me feel 'findable' by someone. Took away my sacred anonymity.

This man is obsessed with this woman. This man articulately takes his chance to insult me and slam dunks the fuck out of it. It's beautiful. This is not sarcasm. I mean this.

Despite his social handicaps, he wins this one. Hands down. I love it. I kinda wanna be his friend. I kinda wanna teach him how to have better game. He could be a powerhouse with the right guidence.

Out of complete respect to deleted user, u/fickle-structure-512, I give you:

----

"The Smile Beneath the Mask"

My Dearest,

Yesterday, you turned me away with such effortless grace that I could almost forget it was a rejection. You wore your busyness like a silken veil, laughing that sleep had become a luxury you could no longer afford. I laughed with you, for how could I be wounded by a spirit as bright as yours? There is no bitterness between us, only a quiet, aching wonder.

Yet, in the stillness of my mind, a question lingers like a ghost. How did he find the way in? How did that hollow, fragile creature... that troll beneath the bridge manage to dismantle the iron walls you keep so carefully guarded? I see the way you look away from him now, with a shuttered coldness, and yet once you surrendered everything for his sake. You gave him the hours that belonged to your rest. You let your brilliance falter just to keep him company.

You tell me nothing. You speak of misaligned schedules and the scarcity of time, but the truth is written in the sudden ice of your presence whenever he draws near. Your warmth is a gift you give to the world, yet you withhold every spark from him. I see you now, burying the memory of him under a mountain of labor. Extra classes, new jobs, the endless pursuit of "more." You are trying to fill a void so vast it threatens to swallow the sun. What is it you are so desperate to forget? Why must you walk this path alone? And yet... there is a new lightness in your step, as if a heavy shroud has finally slipped from your shoulders.

He still watches you from the mouth of his dark cave, but his gaze is a phantom that can no longer touch you. You are the first light of my every morning. Even with your face half-hidden, I see the joy pushing against your cheeks, the way your smile kindles a fire in your eyes despite the exhaustion that clings to you. Keep shining, my mysterious friend. You are a masterpiece of resilience, and I am content to watch you from the shore.

------

This man is probably the most romantic writer I have ever studied. He used to watch me interact with his "goddess". Lurking around corners. Making shit weird. The weirdest thing I've ever experienced, I believe.

But his writing. It blows me away. I'll never forget this letter. It inspires me to do better as an artist.

I honestly love how he brings the astounding beauty of her soul to life. The way I once saw it. The way I could never put into words. I truly respect this man's ability to describe true respect and love in such semantics. I genuinely admire his ability to make the feelings I once had for her, truly readable. She is..... Indescribable to most.

But I truly wish, for her.. that she learns to embrace this thing. This thing that makes certain men forever loyal to her. She doesn't understand it. Her self esteem is grossly deflated. It's heart breaking. She is obsessed with AI and robotic logic and needs to unplug for once and get in touch with her actual soul. She isn't scary. At all. She's powerful though. She's profound and her soul is impossibly unique. She is just beautiful without a proper/comprehensive explanation. I pray for her. To be able to find balance. To find her definition of truth. To stop being so nervous and skiddish and scared and cowardly when she doesn't fucking have to be. I'm not perfect at ALL. But I'm a step ahead of her with this. And I hope I helped her. I hope she takes away something valuable from the practice we had. Perhaps she might see that she could be actually loved blindly and wholly. That a man of my overly cautious reserve could take a risk and surrender to her indefinitely. I don't regret that I took that risk at all. Because I learned a very crucial lesson while loving this scattered-brained genius, mess of a woman. I'll never be the same.

I do not love this woman anymore. At all. To be perfectly honest, I despise her. But I do not regret her either. I'm sorry she had to read what she read. I'm sure it shocked her and embarrassed her, but I'm not sorry for creating a reddit journal. And I'm not sorry that our sexual chemistry is unforgettable to me. Not one bit. So f*** off with that dramatic nonsense.

Please, my yester- love, learn to own yourself fully. Quit being so pathetically scared and projecting it on men who love you when you want to opt out and run like a lazy ass, for reasons you can't even identify yourself. You'll do well in the future if you find this strength. It's not so hard. Quit being a pu**y. You're better than that. Man up. Stop flexing that you're strong without being willing to prove it. I hate seeing someone so incredible act so weak. Makes me sick.

Be yourself and please stop telling others to. YOU do it. Stop lying and being weird. Stop giving a shit about things that don't matter. And stop caring what others think. It's infantile. Goodbye.

Much love.

KM

I can live with:

Being in love with someone who is finished with me

Being myself 100% of the time

Being disliked

Being confident without arrogance

All of my boundaries

Being flexible

Being misunderstood

Being traumatized

Being careful with trust

Being celibate

Being lonely

Being exhausted

Being around too many people all the time

I can live with these things, sure. And I will. But SOME OF THEM REALLY FUCKING SUCK.

FUCK THIS SHIT

As I lay here in bed, ready to dose off and make lasagnas tomorrow morning, I can only think of one thing I'd wish for if granted one.

​

To hear the sound of your weird colored car parking in front of my window and then to hop up outta bed, put my slippers on, walk out to the driveway, lean against my car and watch you get out and walk up to me and just say "hey". 💞💋

Dear Waldus,

​

​I wanted to take un momento to write you this note mostly because I know that sometimes the world doesn’t quite know what to do with people who are a bit unique —and honestly, that’s the world's loss my doot.

​

​Is hard to miss you when you walk into a room my guy. Being a tall redhead with groucho marx glasses means you stand out by default lol. but I know that standing out isn't always comfortable big boy, especially when you’d often rather just blend into the background. Social settings can feel like navigating a minefield without a map, and it is completely okay if you haven't mastered the art of effortless small talk or fun. The world has enough loud, predictable people. Annoying trolls under bridges. There are really obnoxious people who set tones and have empathy and I know you just can't understand the success they've achieved. Es ok mijo is ok.

​

​There is something incredibly cool about the fact that you’ve carved out your own niche in the exotic cheese departure. It takes a specific kind of dedication and quiet passion to understand the nuances of things that are complex, rare, and take time to mature. Honestly, it’s a perfect metaphor for the best kinds of people. Just like a rare, artisanal cheese, the most interesting individuals aren't meant for mass-market appeal; they are appreciated by people who actually take the time to notice the depth and character beneath the surface. You fall in love so quickly baby boy. I do too. But the trick is not showing so much. Have some tact.

​

​You don’t need to be the loudest voice in the room or the most smooth-talking person in your 30s to be deeply valued. Your quietness, your quirks, and even your awkwardness are just parts of a genuinely unique puzzle. Sometimes you gotta cut in and interrupt conversations. Sometimes you gotta be a rude ass I guess.

​

Maybe when you get to your 40's you'll be more like me. But for now you're a sad little cheese man.

​

​Give yourself a little more credit. The right people will always appreciate the rare flavors you bring to the table. ☺️☺️☺️

​

Advice:

​

-don't linger so much

-Stop giving so much of yourself so quickly

-Be a little mysterious

-Walk away as soon as you make someone laugh

-dont play punchlines out

-Be more aware of your surroundings

-Stop fucking smothering other people's girlfriends

​

​Warmly,

​

​The hollow troll creature in the cave across the bay over there

​

​

Lady Rebellius,

My trust was sound when much was unknown

Our flow...

Was surreal. It was not definable by any word or phrase.

It was like our bodies and minds were sewn.

You parked in front of my house for the first time at 6am. Your first visit. October 2025.

I led you to my kitchen.

" You want coffee?" I asked, with a smile.

"Sure"- So I started the French press process. Roughly ground beans.

I looked into your intoxicating hooded brown eyes. I grabbed your sweatshirt near the small of your back and pulled you close. The kiss was so fucking delicious.

We'd sent each other texts in the weeks prior. Big game and big sex talk.

"See what you do to me?" I whispered as I grabbed your wrist and guided your delicate, porcelain hand below the drawstring of my favorite black sweats I wore..

Before you discarded me, about 2 weeks before, you read me a journal entry about that morning. We were laying on "our bed" with our special pillows in your apartment.

'I've never seen a dick like his before. I think I love it.'

My performance was sound that morning. You left with me deep inside of your stomach. I drove to Santa Cruz, high on your love that day, after the employee appreciation party. The smell of your skin in my nose hairs. The taste of your wetness on my moustache.

We continued. It never stopped getting better.

Around Christmas time, your warnings had arrived. What you told me would happen, happened. And it came with severity. I lost you there.

Swimming in your ocean felt different. Less snug. Less welcoming. More polluted and chaotic.

You went away for longer periods. You seemed embarrassed and self conscious at work sometimes. You ran.

But you always came back. You always made days for us and you stuck to them. You dedicated them to us. I loved that.

But the days that weren't for me, were cold. Mysterious.

Every 5 days we would be together and it was always so mother fucking good. But every 5 days, there was a new uncomfortable discovery.

Your purple booty shorts were on the floor of your bathroom. Like you forgot to put them in the hamper. You never wear those... Except for me..

Your lips were tampered with.

I couldn't feel your walls like I did before. (See 'Redbone' by childish Gambino)

You pleased me in a brand new way. Hands and slop. Outta nowhere.

You over explained things that you didn't have to.

I left my phone on the bed when I left your apartment one morning in a rush to pick up M and ran back up to the third floor and knocked. You answered the door with a face I'd never seen before. A face that wasn't for me.

I always loved to taste you. And you would lift your hips all the way up for me to explore you fully. After New Year's you started pressing your hips downward. As if you were keeping me away from something. Almost to protect my ego.

After my kpfa radio performance in march, we went to your place and made Mongolian beef. You wanted to "go home and eat and fuck". So after dinner, you sucked me proper and then you were on your back with your beautiful, shapely legs open and your sexy feet on my shoulders and you kept looking at the corner in the ceiling behind the tv. It was strange. So I looked. And you looked and I looked again. You said nothing. I felt weird. But I managed to tap that ass so hard. Beat it the fuck down. Was it anger? I don't know. I made you choke a bit. At one point, while I was clappin it doggy, I turned to the corner in the ceiling behind the television and taunted with a middle finger and hard slaps on your cheeks. It felt good. We came hard. Red hand prints and loud moaning. But I felt violated. My trust was crumbling. I started resenting you. You were hiding something from me. And I hated you a little bit for it. It felt condescending. Like you thought I was stupid. You poor thing. You arrogant, delusional thing.

Where did this distrust come from? My mind? I want to understand. I'm crazy, yes. But I always have one foot on the ground.

The times I couldn't perform at 100%, came from distrust. And blooming disgust.

You said we were exclusive. The night I ruined Valentine's day with drugs and paranoia. You said that. Why didn't I believe you.

Goodbye miss upside down pineapple. Tell the cat lady across the way I said hi. Maybe she'll let me hit it too. And I will. Cuz it's easy. It's always been easy to get pussy. But you were never about pussy to me. I loved you. Like LOOOVED YOU

We coulda set a boundary long ago. Why didn't we. You shoulda never called me your boyfriend. That's where it started.

Tell punk ass, lame ass, smitten ass, pussy ass Waldo I said hi. He came to our location in november. And November is when you shifted. Hope He's worth it. He's the lamest person I've ever been near. Peg him for me will you. Peg him like I fucked you. Hard and relentlessly.

Enjoy your new job and schedule. Be good to yourself. Feel ya tomorrow maybe. While not knowing you at all.

With love.

Ç👁️g

View Poll

Push ups

"What was once nothing more than a regular ol’ home workout for me has morphed into something that consumes me.

I wanted to be firm. To look battle-ready. For no one other than myself.

Then I met you. Now you were the cause of my ups and downs.

It wasn’t a personal challenge anymore. It wasn’t a tick on the daily routine checklist. It became a promise. A promise to be strong for you. To be able to lift you up in my arms and kiss you like in the movies.

Up and down. Up and down. Seeing your face every time my biceps shook and my elbows locked.

And I did it. I achieved that goal. I was strong for you. But now you don’t want to kiss me anymore.

I didn’t give you shelter. I didn’t give you a diamond bracelet. I didn’t cook for you. I didn’t clean for you. I didn’t surprise you with flowers or chocolates. I didn’t write you love letters to express just how deeply I needed you. Just how precious you were to me. Instead, I promised you the world and everything in it and delivered nothing more than pushups.

Up and down, up and down.

And for what? You don’t let me pick you up anymore. All of this strength and nothing to show for it.

This is no longer a home workout for me.

This is the only thing that reminds me of you."

-donny boy the great

This would be so much easier if you weren't so mother fucking gorgeous. F u

I hate when people say "not sustainable" with no explanation. No logic behind it. No communication. No understanding. I hate when the word "pattern" is used as a cop out. Why are so many people so cowardly in this world. Just be fuckin straight up. Be honest. You didn't like a bunch of shit about me. Knowing these things Would've helped me move on sooner. You coward. I hate how much i want you back. Just keep it real. You didnt like the hair on my dick, you didn't like how i mirrored you, you didn't like how i wanted to be exclusive, you didn't like sooo many things. So you hid behind the "mind reading" bullshit. And the VALUES garbage! What values??? Tell me fucker! I never ever tried to come between you and your fucking peace. I respected your agancy and your space whole heartedly. What is your peace anyway? And why couldn't i know about it? Why didn't you trust me? I would have never ever judged it. Ever. You fucking fool. I hope you find someone better than me.

Why couldn't you just make it a quick, painless death. Why sugarcoat. You're better than that dude.

Thanks for meeting my kid and my entire family just to run away and do whatever it is you do when you're alone. Peace and love. 💞

Just be honest. You'd be surprised at how it shakes out.

Love, R

💞🫠💋❤️💔🫤😭

That last post was hella mean. Damn