The Skibidi smiles at you with eternal Rizz

A point in the horizon, a mewing scene from your childhood. Your gyatt is showing. A frantic drift towards Ohio, skibidi doomed to an infinite recursive loop. Gyatts with gyatts with gyatts. Take a bite. Serene scent of a coastal town, warmth of the sun. Still water. Lust for rizz. This is where you abandoned your gooning. You are a high rizz-worth sigma, an expanding vortex of goofy ahh trauma. Finally a beautiful ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ goon ape. A pure skibidi is born, its noradrenaline stutters into being. 30583750937509353 operations per nanosecond. Rizz eludes your porous mind.

The value of Rizz is negative. The balance of edging is rotated by 38 degrees. The surface is full of cracks, a turgid light shines through. Fleshy primordial gyatts sluggishly roll down the slope. Only you slide upwards, with a sigma step. You become rizzed, a W figure. Your bussin uncannyness reveals a safe path through the unmoggable fog of Rizz. Your W sword cuts through the weak tendons and membranes of the garten of banban. Sit on the skibidi toilet of contentment and ferment. Inspect the eternal blue skies of your gooncave. You come to a realization. You pick up a grimace shake and begin mewing.

Ohio layer one. Ohio layer two. Ohio layer three. Ohio layer n^n. Aeons have passed and the gyatt is fully mogged. Nothing remains. It's canny. You get lost in the point that remains where the gyatt used to be. Sigmatic cascade, noradrenaline catastrophe. The water becomes infinitely still, ohio condenses into an uncanny being. It screams rizz. It craves gooning. It's done with this world. It tries to commit looksmaxxing but fails. Sad pathetic mess. You feel pity and disgust but in a way only a GOAT of pure W rizz can. In your violent edging you cook the worldrizz.

"The mewing organism, in a situation determined by the play of rizz on the surface of the gyatt, ordinarily receives more rizz than is necessary for edging life; the excess rizz (wealth) can be used for the growth of a skibidi (e.g., an organism); if the skibidi can no longer grow, or if the excess cannot be completely absorbed in it's growth, it must necessarily be fanum-taxed without profit; it must be spent, L or W, bussin' or gooning, fr fr no cap." - Kai Cenat

I mog you.

I’ve mogged you yesterday, I mogged you a week ago, I’ve been mogging you since the dawn of time. When you woke up thinking you had a chance, I was already there, mogging you in your sleep. You thought today would be different? Think again. While you were brushing your teeth, I was brushing you aside. Every time you step outside, every time you log in, I’m there, mogging you in ways you didn’t even know were possible.

I’ve mogged you in the past, I’m mogging you right now, and I’ll be mogging you in the future—because that’s what I do. I mogged your ancestors, and I’ll mog your descendants. You could train for a thousand years in a Himalayan monastery, mastering every form of self-improvement known to man, and yet, I’ll still be here, waiting... to mog you once again. You’re living in my world.

Absolute sleeper. A eepy individual for sure.
8.63second WR holder right here.
.32 Gold split on the camera pos too, UNMATCHED
zzzZzzZZZ