I am glad to finally share this life lesson with you. It’s a blessing which led me towards many realizations about the extremes in life. And so it goes.

So Jony was a good man. If of course you can call anyone good from that time. But he was very damn much a man. A true man. It really made me see the nature of man. The French revolutionaries said it is good, the authoritarians said it is bad, and the machiavellians said it is neither. And my heart, together with my soul, goes out to the last one. But he was named Jonathan. And it haunts us to this day. As a specter under my every Reddit post. Will you share the discoveries of lessons about Margaret Thatcher under this, Jony?

Ah, what am I going on about? How silly. How silly are the consequences of this expression compared to titanic longing of life. That man really struck my soul. And, as a fellow man, the bond couldn’t be closer. We were the best buddies. When chatting on discord and discovering different corners. Both didn’t really identify with any. Both felt like we were chased into one of these corners, just like that, just by the pities in life.

And so it went on. We were on a discord server, discussing everything. And it really got me. We both could finally accept the realities of the situation. And we were in a situation. This was a situation stemming and giving back to all life. We were just pitiful. And it was just simple pity. It was real. How could it be childish pity? It was a tragedy ruining our lives. Childishness isn’t ever childish, we learned. And we needed to say that things are bad. We moved on. We rejected simple ideas. We rejected that we are bound to be degenerate. We learned.

Going around extremist servers, where we were getting banned at any slight sign of conservatism. True chads. True desert countrymen. And so we overcame the fear. We realized that the world is upon us. We bullied the femboys. We got bullied by creatures far lesser. And he still is getting the treatment. The name is Jonathan. So very communist. Things just couldn’t last. And so it goes. He was not in a good place in life. But there was one hope. And this hope would strike everything down. An almost hellish procession.

And it goes to this day. Just two lost souls. Deep into the night he would reply under my posts. I accepted that I can’t rid of it. That responsibility. It is the mundane duty. And so it goes into the night. Endless hidden threads. About all that there was. Giving back to the whole world’s soul. He can’t decide on Margaret Thatcher.