>>6460045>back then she mentioned the tic-tac-toe herself and wanted to bounce it off with chat. Instead you have people playing tic-tac-toe against each other with donations while completely ignoring the streamer, there is little to no room on how to change the chat topic. That's no better than that one watchalong where people started watching the yuru camp by themselves because she overslept and then bragged about it. You're isolating the streamer from her own stream. Clips of that got twice the view count of the original stream and then the avalanche of clipwatchers followed spamming the chat whenever she brought that outfit back. Not even clips about her chest got to the 900k views unlike that forehead clip. (the only VOD of her that can beat that is the debut stream which was 10 months ago).So in the end we are stuck with people who don't even watch her streams but constantly bring up the forehead memes on in her community tags because "people find it funny!" while the streamer herself means nothing to them. The violet delay distraction might finally shift that but that's wishful thinking.
Conduct may be founded on the
hard rock or the wet marshes, but after a certain point I don’t
care what it’s founded on. When I came back from the East last
autumn I felt that I wanted the world to be in uniform and at a
sort of moral attention forever; I wanted no more riotous
4
excursions with privileged glimpses into the human heart. Only
Gatsby, the man who gives his name to this book, was exempt
from my reaction — Gatsby, who represented everything for
which I have an unaffected scorn. If personality is an unbroken
series of successful gestures, then there was something gorgeous about him, some heightened sensitivity to the promises
of life, as if he were related to one of those intricate machines
that register earthquakes ten thousand miles away. This responsiveness had nothing to do with that flabby impressionability which is dignified under the name of the “creative temperament.”— it was an extraordinary gift for hope, a romantic
readiness such as I have never found in any other person and
which it is not likely I shall ever find again. No — Gatsby
turned out all right at the end; it is what preyed on Gatsby,
what foul dust floated in the wake of his dreams that temporarily closed out my interest in the abortive sorrows and shortwinded elations of men.
