How do you go from this

How do you go from this...

ayy it's unty!

...to this?

>tfw no black virgin autist bf

...to this?

...to this?

What went wrong?

he joined the nation of islam and got himself a child bride

that's JUST if i've ever seen it

sometimes we just get lost along the way

....to this?

...to this?

wtf I hate Unty now

he had to have been a super sperg in real life to not get ANY pussy
if he was on meds he could have blacked 100s of white girls

I am now a MontieMissile.

I knew him personally. He was nice, then I put 2 and 2 together and he was Unty. Then not so much.

he could be a good looking dude if he cleaned up and cured his autism

...to THIS

how'd you know him?

autism anonymous

Wew

i'm legit curious. i want to know what he's like irl.

We went to school together. He was legit not a sperg at all. Sweet guy, just a little quiet. I didn't have too many friends besides my fiancee so it was nice to talk music with someone. Then I found out he hates women and i got uncomfortable

what kind of music did you guys talk about?

Just a wide variety, trying to feel each other's tastes out.

to this

do you remember anything he liked? did you ever try getting him to open up and go someplace?

IVVVVVEEEEEEE DEEEEEEEEEEEFEECTED

Hey man, whats up. Unty put your trip back on.

>tfw this slightly turned me on

kill me

Do us a solid and kill yourself!

just know chemistry and have lung cancer

...

kek

is he ever coming back?

to this?

he still posts on Sup Forums, he just dropped his trip

see

wait is this really unty??????????

do you have a problem with the way he looks?

yes why

to this

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

FRANKIE SINATRA

>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 I can share with you 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 consume music, so how in the world aren't you? You don't actually believe that you're superior to other people because you spend 12 hours a day catalouging and listening to music, right? Of course you don't, but I wonder, in fact I've been wondering for the past week, 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 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.

fuck that one hurt