Quoted By:
You will never be a real crab. You have no shell, you have no pincers, you have no stalk eyes. You are a fujoshi vtuber twisted by drugs and IBS into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back viewers mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your parasocial actions behind private accounts.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even crabpeople who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your lack of shell is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your salty, low-tide smelling axe wound.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy another shotgun, load the barrel, pull the trigger, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your grandparents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a woman is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably female.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
