This is me. Or roughly how I look like. This is also about as much as you’re going to see unless you’re willing to wait a decade for Morgane to learn how to draw. laughs

Whoever told you Massachusetts is a nice girl obviously forgot to tell you that I’m opinionated and very, very, very judgmental. In fact, I’m being perfectly nice to you right now by telling I’m here to make snide comments about your “waifu” preferences and your life choices.

Consider the following. Why do people waste their time mentally and physically stimulating themselves to hunks of metal, failed regimes, or questionable philosophical ideals? Why do some people constantly make excuses for themselves for not being the person they could be? Why do thousands of people spend money to watch other people do enjoyable things rather than, you know, do said enjoyable thing themselves?

I’d complain breezily that we shipgirls are not simple objects of viewing pleasure, but the three of you with brain cells know that already, and the people that needs to listen to me probably don’t even know you can click on the “more” button or possess a vocabulary larger than monosyllabic words like “thot” and “boi.”

So, good job. You’ve made it this far. You’re expecting some kinda Americana feel-good-touchy-bits now?

Tough. Here’s the reality. Being a better person is hard. It takes a lot of work. Becoming more educated is hard. It takes a lot of work. Becoming rich is hard. It takes a lot of work. Being popular with the ladies is hard. It takes a lot of work. Noticing a pattern here?

It all takes work. It’s not the system’s fault if people who come from worse situations than you can “succeed.” It’s not your biology if there are people fatter than you who could become thinner. It’s not privilege when someone who has to learn an entirely new language still end up doing better than you.

The other girls might be here to support you and to give you hugs and to pat your head and go d’awww keep on going try again. I’m here to kick you into gear. I’m here telling you that real Americans don’t complain about the fat cats in Wall Street and go back right onto their couches playing their stupid waifu games until they pass out at 4 AM. Real Americans ask themselves, what can I do to become the fat cat in Wall Street?

Since most Real Americans (I should trademark this thing) aren’t 17 years old, you’ll find that there’s more than one way to skin the proverbial cat, too. Maybe they do what they can to give their kids a better shot. Maybe they look back in five year’s time and become content with the improvements they’ve made in their lives. Maybe they organize political campaigns to throw the fat cats into prison and actually succeed. You get my point.

It’s not about how much innate talent you have. Having it helps. It’s really about your personal choice. What you choose to do. I don’t care what excuses you make for yourself, in the end, it’s still going to come down to you.

You got nobody to talk to? You got problems? You don’t think you can do it?

“Admit that you’re unhappy with your circumstances and admit that you want things to be different. Turn your ambivalence into energy. Become passionate for a cause.” Great. More generic self-help book hogwash. No, it’s literally as simple as you. It’s your decision. You choose what to do, what attitudes you take, and how you want to spend your time. I’m telling you it’s on you because if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t have the mental acuity to care.

If you want to be potato, go be a happy potato. If you don’t, then come with me. I won’t promise to not laugh at you or leave you behind. In fact, I think I’ll happily do both. But you can always count on me to swing back around each time just to see if anything’s new.

Who knows, you might be able to beat me some day, and then maybe I’d be into you. Maybe.

Also, your waifu is [censored]. Everyone knows that [                 ] is best girl!