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“No, this can’t be happening, I’m literally shaking and crying rn”, I exclaim, as I’m shaking and crying. I reach towards my usual form of self defence, the dislike button, the tool to protect myself from the intimidating presence of such a bold and powerful opinion. Its strength has waned with time, and I see myself facing the demons of terrible takes on this god-forsaken platform with much more frequency. But even in these trying times, it’s always been by my side. My rock, my weapon, my tool to finally show the people who make these points pay, to give them their just desserts. But when I reach towards the button, confident that it will aid me, confident that it will be the light to pierce the darkness… I realize that It’s gone. Why is it gone? Why did it leave me? The dislike button had always been at my side. Had I abused its power, using it only to serve my self-righteous quest of vengeance? Had I been rejected by its gracious will, never to be allowed to wield such a weapon again? It couldn’t be true. It had to be a lie, an illusion to trick me into thinking I was powerless. It surely was a test, right? A test of faith and might, a test to see if I was truly willing to put up my arms and fight for its cause… I desperately searched for it, my beacon of hope in war, as I was swiftly overwhelmed by the hordes of terrible takes. But no matter where I looked or what I did, the dislike button did not appear. It was gone forever. I went mad because of the realization. Was I truly unworthy of the powers of opinion? Could it be that in my attempts to fight back, I had found pleasure in drawing the blade of contempt and disapproval, complacent in the web of lies that I had been crafting for myself? Was the dislike button even real to begin with, or was it a twisted dream of my imagination, desperately trying to distance myself of the blood I drew with each and every confrontation? I sat down to ponder, as my reality collapsed around me. I had no dislikes. I had no power. And slowly, but surely, I was lost to the darkness… And my name became a mere memory, as I had lost everything I stood for, and the only thought in my mind was of the person who had robbed me of my identity, of my existence.
#disliked
“No ๐ , this can’t ๐ซ๐น be happening ๐ฑ, I’m ๐ literally ๐ฏ shaking ๐ค and crying ๐ข rn ๐”, I ๐ exclaim ๐ค, as I’m ๐ shaking ๐ค and crying ๐ญ. I ๐ reach ๐ towards ๐ my usual ๐ form ๐ of self ๐ฏ defence ๐ก, the dislike ๐ฏ button ๐, the tool ๐ง to protect ๐ก myself from the intimidating presence ๐ of such a bold ๐ช and powerful ๐ช๐ฏ opinion ๐ค. Its strength ๐ช has waned with time โฐ, and I ๐ see ๐ myself facing ๐ง the demons ๐น๐ of terrible โ takes ๐ on ๐ this god-forsaken โ platform ๐ฑ๐ฎ with much ๐ฅ more frequency โฐ. But ๐ even ๐ in these trying ๐๐ times ๐๐ , it’s always ๐ been by my side ๐๐. My rock ๐ฟ, my weapon ๐ก๐ซ๐ฃ, my tool ๐จ to finally ๐ show ๐บ the people ๐จ who make ๐ these points ๐ pay ๐ฒ, to give ๐ them their just desserts ๐จ. But ๐ค when โฐ I ๐ reach ๐ towards โช the button ๐ด๐, confident ๐ that it will aid ๐ท me, confident ๐ that it will be the light ๐ก to pierce ๐ฝ the darkness ๐… I ๐ realize ๐ค that It’s gone ๐๐พ. Why ๐ค is it gone ๐จ? Why ๐ค๐ฝ did it leave ๐บ๐ณ๐ me? The dislike ๐ button ๐ด had always ๐ been at my side ๐๐. Had I ๐ abused ๐ช๐คค๐ฅต its power ๐ช๐ฅ, using ๐ it only to serve ๐ my self-righteous ๐ค๐ quest โ of vengeance ๐ ๐ก? Had I ๐ been rejected โ by its gracious โ๐๐ will, never โ to be allowed ๐ to wield such a weapon ๐กโ๐คบ again โ๐ฌ? It couldn’t be true ๐ฏ. It had to be a lie ๐๐ค๐ข, an illusion ๐ to trick ๐๐ป me into thinking ๐ค I ๐ was powerless ๐ค. It surely ๐๐ป was a test ๐๐, right ๐? A test ๐๐ of faith ๐ and might ๐ช, a test ๐ฏ to see ๐ if I ๐ was truly โ willing ๐ฉ to put ๐ up โฌ๐ my arms ๐ช and fight ๐ฅ for its cause ๐… I ๐ desperately ๐ searched ๐ฌ๐ฉโ๐ป for it, my beacon ๐จ of hope ๐ in war ๐ซ๐ฃโ , as I ๐ was swiftly ๐๐ป๐ overwhelmed โ by the hordes ๐ of terrible ๐ takes ๐. But ๐ no ๐ matter ๐ where I ๐ looked ๐ or what I ๐ฅ did, the dislike ๐ button ๐ด๐ตโช did not appear ๐. It was gone ๐ forever ๐ค๐. I ๐๐คด went ๐โ mad ๐ because of the realization ๐ค๐ก๐ญ. Was I ๐ truly ๐ฏ unworthy ๐ค of the powers ๐ชโโก of opinion ๐ค๐ค? Could it be that in my attempts ๐ to fight ๐ฅ back ๐, I ๐ had found ๐ค๐ pleasure ๐ in drawing ๐ the blade ๐ก of contempt ๐ค and disapproval ๐คจ, complacent ๐๐ ฑ in the web ๐ป๐ธ of lies ๐ค that I ๐ฅ had been crafting for myself? Was the dislike ๐ button ๐ even ๐ real ๐ฏ to begin ๐ with, or was it a twisted ๐ช dream ๐ญ of my imagination ๐ค๐๐, desperately ๐ trying ๐ to distance ๐พ myself of the blood ๐ I โ๐ drew ใฐ with each and every ๐ฏ confrontation? I ๐ sat ๐บ down โฌ๐ to ponder ๐๐ผ, as my reality โ ๐ฏ collapsed ๐ง๐ผ๐๐ around ๐ me. I ๐ฅ had no โ๐ซ dislikes ๐. I ๐ had no ๐ฃ power ๐ช. And slowly ๐ข, but ๐ surely ๐, I ๐ was lost ๐ณ to the darkness ๐… And my name ๐ became ๐ก a mere ๐ซ memory ๐ง , as I ๐ฅ had lost ๐ณ everything ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ I ๐ stood ๐ถ๐ปโโ๏ธ for, and the only thought ๐ค in my mind ๐คฏ was of the person ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ญ who had robbed ๐ me of my identity ๐๐ฆ๐, of my existence ๐.
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> “No, this can’t be happening, I’m literally shaking and crying rn”, I exclaim, as I’m shaking and crying. I reach towards my usual form of self defence, the dislike button, the tool to protect myself from the intimidating presence of such a bold and powerful opinion. Its strength has waned with time, and I see myself facing the demons of terrible takes on this god-forsaken platform with much more frequency. But even in these trying times, it’s always been by my side. My rock, my weapon, my tool to finally show the people who make these points pay, to give them their just desserts. But when I reach towards the button, confident that it will aid me, confident that it will be the light to pierce the darkness…
>I realize that It’s gone. Why is it gone? Why did it leave me? The dislike button had always been at my side. Had I abused its power, using it only to serve my self-righteous quest of vengeance? Had I been rejected by its gracious will, never to be allowed to wield such a weapon again? It couldn’t be true. It had to be a lie, an illusion to trick me into thinking I was powerless. It surely was a test, right? A test of faith and might, a test to see if I was truly willing to put up my arms and fight for its cause… I desperately searched for it, my beacon of hope in war, as I was swiftly overwhelmed by the hordes of terrible takes.
>But no matter where I looked or what I did, the dislike button did not appear. It was gone forever. I went mad because of the realization. Was I truly unworthy of the powers of opinion? Could it be that in my attempts to fight back, I had found pleasure in drawing the blade of contempt and disapproval, complacent in the web of lies that I had been crafting for myself? Was the dislike button even real to begin with, or was it a twisted dream of my imagination, desperately trying to distance myself of the blood I drew with each and every confrontation? I sat down to ponder, as my reality collapsed around me.
>I had no dislikes. I had no power. And slowly, but surely, I was lost to the darkness… And my name became a mere memory, as I had lost everything I stood for, and the only thought in my mind was of the person who had robbed me of my identity, of my existence.
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