Hum it again, user

>Hum it again, user...

Well, Sup Forums? What did you hum to her?

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Earthmover.

>I don't get you, user. You stare at me in class, finally muster the might to ask me out, and now that I'm here, you stare sullenly and act like you don't even want me around. Let's get something straight: It was you that called me, yet I'm the only one talking, looking even remotely enthused. I recognize that you're shy, but I thought with a gentle nudge you'd amount to something sociable. I suppose you thought the same thing when you asked me out, too? Well, you clearly don't understand people, user. You probably don't even understand yourself.

Det Som En Gang Var

The only correct answer

youtube.com/watch?v=Y2IpoTKnDPw

Jokes on you faggot, I want to be alone
Women are gay lol

>Hey, user. Thanks for meeting up with me. I suppose I'll start by telling you that I'm moving back to Chicago. Just gonna rent out a space at my folks' place, and try getting hired at a nearby publisher. Also, no I haven't been answering my phone. I'm sorry, and I hope you weren't worried. The past week or so's rendered me a bit dissolved, and I believed it a disservice to you, and especially myself, to foster any sort of interaction until my raw emotions had yielded, and I'd regained some sense of composure. I'm better now, and can share what's been on my mind. Once, when I believed you were a misunderstood, but good-natured, creature of ill-circumstance, I promised I'd never leave you, but our time together has taught me otherwise and I've no other choice. Perhaps the worst part is that you've yet to even realize that you're the problem here. I mean, with a single hour of interaction others are privy to your covert narcissism and the compensatory fervor with which you listen to music, so how in the world aren't you? You don't actually believe that you're superior to other people because you listen to music 10 hours a day and can namedrop hundreds of musicians I've never heard of, right? Of course you don't, but I wonder, I've been wondering for the past week in fact, what would happen if through some miracle you were forced to drop that charade and present yourself with an iota of sincerity. I suppose I'll never know, but what I do know is that after this conversation ends, when I'm sitting on the train heading back home, you'll be at yours, trying to repair the tattered remnants of your psyche and convince yourself of whatever self-masturbatory rhetoric you've become fluent with. I know that you'll try to hate me, but never will, especially never more than you hate yourself. Don't bother trying to contact me.

lol you cant hum buyers market

>but I've been humming the Remember the Name tune for hours