Thoughts on “Ok”s

The devil himself couldn’t be less apathetically sadistic. The act of sending me an “ok” as a response to me trying to explain myself, or telling a joke, or expressing any real human emotion is cruel. I feel like a child who’s trying to gain the attention of a disinterested mother, and the more she ignores me, the more I look up to her as someone who’s just above me: I’m just not good enough to get her attention. My ego is diminished, and I’m trying to keep my cool but I just can’t.

The emptiness you feel after an unconcerned “ok” is the definition of the fucking void. What are you supposed to do? Is this the anticlimactic end to the conversation you tried to have? What could possibly happen next?

I know that after I finish writing this piece, I’m going to receive dozens of “ok”s. And that’s fine, I appreciate the little shitlords who exist in my life. You damn whippersnappers.

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