 KaiKeroseno's Library
|
 surprise link  Story  Art  FAQ |
|
¿Qué?
Esta página fue hecha con la intención de compartir/archivar mis historias/cuentos y ocs que no son de ningun fandom en particular, es decir, criaturas que viven en mi cerebro. Link.
 Copypasta de relleno
Sabían que yo en realidad creé el meme del six seven xd. Yo estaba al lado del niño del video, empezamos a bromear diciendo cosas sin sentido y yo dije SIIIX SEVEEN moviendo las manos hacia arriba y hacia abajo Él se rió y empezó a repetirlo, y justo cuando lo grabaron lo dijo. Yo estaba atrás… básicamente yo creé ese meme, pero me quedé callado hasta ahora. xd
¿Quién?
Veo que sos alguien curiosx. Si estas leyendo esto, significa que querés saber de mi, KaiKeroseno. Soy un payaso que vive en una dimensión muy MUY diferente a la tuya, hablo en otro idioma, pero si lees esto es gracias al traductor especial de payasense a humano. ¿Mi edad? ¿Mi ubicación? La fiscalía me dijo que ya no hablara de eso. Cualquier referencia a su realidad es mera coincidencia.
¿Por qué?
Primero: me gusta escribir, segundo: Francia, tercero: me parece una excelente idea compartir mis habilidades en desarrollo para dejar de temerle al ojo público.
|
Actualizaciones (Esp)
Por ahora nada, solo 3 gatos locos invisibles bailando la macarena fusion salsa y bachata.
Updates (Eng)
Nothing but crickets... And a dog smashing a phone in half.
Reflexiones/preguntas
Pueden ser enviadas a mi tumblr: Link.
O si te gusta ser un poco mas masoquista a mi twitter: Link. Porfa PORFA DENME SUS REFLEXIONES Y PREGUNTAS Y COMENTARIOS MI ESPECIE DE PAYASO SE NUTRE DE ESTO PORFA
Thoughts/questions
Can be sent to my tumblr: Link.
Or if you prefer being a masochist to my twitter: Link. Please PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND QUESTIONS AND COMMENTS MY CLOWN SPECIES THRIVES OFF OF THEM PLEASE |
What?
This page was made with the mere intention to share/archive my stories and ocs from no particular fandom which means, creatures living in my brain.
Who?
I see you are very curious... If you're reading this, then it means you wanto to know about me, KaiKeroseno. I live in a dimension very, VERY differente from yours, but if you're reading this, then it means my translator from clownese to human works just fine. My age? My location? The lawyers said I shouldn't be speaking about that anymore.
Filler copypasta
67 has ruined my fucking life and I can't take it anymore.
I literally cannot do this anymore. I am at my FUCKING limit. 67. Six. Seven. It started as a joke. Just a funny number. A funny fucking number that a kid did in that damn video. But it kept popping up in my fucking reels. What the fuck is going on? I ask myself. At first, I thought it was funny. But I kept seeing it. Not by the major but it was JUST SIX SEVEN AFTER SIX FUCKING SEVENS. I kept blocking those accounts. Nothing worked. I tried a new account alltogether. It still appeared. I even made a newer account with a VPN. NOTHING. FUCKING. WORKS.
"SIX SEVENN!" Haha. Funny. Right? WRONG. This number has systematically dismantled every single aspect of my already pathetic life.
I'm a father of two kids. They're the ones who's always stuck to their screens 26/7. I tried asking them of how to stop it or at the very least explain what it means. I didn't get a clear answer. Instead, they mimic that blonde fucker's hand movements and kept saying "SIX SEVEN" in the most obnoxious tone possible. I felt like crying.
I lost my six-figure job last week. I tried to ignore this whole six seven bullshit and just go to my job. We were in the middle of the most important meeting in the company's history. The CFO pulls up the quarterly projections. The presentation hits a page that showed a pie chart. I look at the screen. The percentage? 67% out of whatever the fucking topic was. I didn't place it there. I swear I didn't. I swear I remember deliberately putting it as 66% just to prevent this exact scenario.
I didn't mean to do it. It was a reflex. I swear. I slammed my hand on the mahogany table and screamed "SIX SEVENNN" at the top of my lungs. I started laughing hysterically, pointing at the screen yelling "SIX SEVEN! SIX SEVEN! SIX SEVEN" at the board of directors. Security escorted me out while I was still trying to explain the meme to those old wrinkly fuckers.
My career is utterly over. I can't even get hired at a cashier job because I'm fucking blacklisted from the local job market. I have ruined my reputation and I cannot fix it no matter how much I beg for forgiveness.
But it didn't stop there. My wife left me yesterday. We were driving to see her parents. I looked at the dashboard. The temperature outside? 67 degrees. I started sweating. I looked at the speedometer. 67 mph. I started hyperventilating. I couldn't help myself. I involuntarily moved my hands up and down while saying six seven. I pulled the car over on the highway and refused to drive until the temperature dropped to 66 or rose to 68. She told me I need professional help. She took the ring back. I lost the divorce. I lost the kids. I lost all of my money. I'm dirt poor.
I see it everywhere now. My phone battery? 67%. The change in my pocket? 67 cents. The page number in my book? 67. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I close my eyes and I just see the number floating in the void. It haunts me. It mocks me. I am a shell of a man, destroyed by a double-digit integer. Is this what god does to his strongest soldier? I can't fucking take it. SIX SEVENNNN SIX. FUCKING. SEVEN. 67 67 67 67 67 GOD FUCKING DAMN IT SIX SEVEN SIX SEVEN SEX SEVEN SIX SEVEN SIX SEVENNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN SIX SEVENNNN
Why?
First: Because I like to write, second: France, third: it's an excellent excercise to share my abilities and ideas in development while getting used to the public eye.
|
|
|