satanichonor said:
You typed about IQ in your signature. That's...funny. That picture would have been better as a gif or video, with the blood dripping down (up) your arm and dripping in a grey-coloured, nearly-monochrome room, onto the dusty, wooden floor, upstairs in an old building, with a dirty single-panelled window, the wooden floor which is as hard and dry as your soon-to-be dead heart will become, and the view/camera moving to the floor with bits of the heart dropping off onto the floor. Then the sound of a soft splat, causing the settled dust to be disturbed, as you drop the pumping heartgrenade onto the floor, with the pin removed, the tinkle of the pin dropping onto the wooden floor, but your pumping heartgrenade not exploding, just pumping with the pool of blood getting bigger, and you walking off out of your sombre, gloomy room, emotionless and silent, with footsteps on the wooden floor and the sound effects of the creaky door, locking it behind you. We never see your front side, so we never know if this is your heart or hers. The heartgrenade doesn't ever explode; it just keeps pumping and pumping, the blood increasing, getting mottled with the dust, and the blood seeps into the wood and between the panels/floorboards, and the scene fades to black briefly as the sound effects, in the distance, can be heard of you getting into your car and driving away...
It is a bit of time later and the scene returns, with everything, camera angle and all, in the exact same positions as before the fade-to-black. The heartgrenade has still not exploded, hardly pumping but struggling and dried, nothing has moved, and the blood-soaked hard, wooden dusty floor has also dried, the heartgrenade stuck in the dust and blood to the floor. Approaching footsteps are heard outside the door, and the creaky door opens slowly to show you, unshaven, drunk and scruffy. You move over to the slowly-pumping limp heartgrenade and notice the pin is missin, ccausing you to search for it frantically, the only sounds from you to be heard are your heavy breathing and moans, groans and grunts of frustration in searching for the pin. Fade to black, scene end. There's no need for any rain or thunder and lightning here, in this doomed heartache of a one-sided semi-love story.
Well,
in my opinion it would have been better like that.
You won't be reasoned with. The Heart doesn't know reason, and you're admitting that more and more, continually. You typed about the jew lowering IQ. The jew uses emotion as a tool of mind-rape. Notice a rape theme here, Mr Creepy Man. Now "muh been targuttid by mah fellow Satanists bcs meh want bang girl". Stop contradicting yourself. Go put on an Emo playlist, and although this might not quite be Emo, let me start you off -
I've fallen in Love
I've fallen in Love for the first time,
and this time I know it's for real...
Enjoy.