Non-existent World Record
Skimming through the paperwork of your track record, you’ve placed zero. In other words, worthless and defective dear, you’re better regarded as non-existent. How did you get here? It’s clear you have lost your mere way. Quick, swallow your pride, you dick and take this map as your guide. Hold on tight, climb back up that selfish, selfless, umbilical cord, hide.
Wait… Better if that dome got choked, you’re a weak synthetic bloke, struggling on the daily, solving problems with your best frendo, lust and coke. Let us play the blame game, it’s on someone’s accord, no, sorry sir not our lord. Clearly put, the life you live is empty, fragile, a box made of a piece of cardboard. Fasten your life up, buckle up you go, don’t fuck up. Award! You’ve won, and no ones affected by your turbulence, you lemming ass pawn. Stand proud, you’ve erased your existence, a miracle of a non-existent hero far from your record holding zero.