Hym "Yes, I declared myself the greatest mind who ever lived... And then, subsequently, went on to create the LLM of AI (at the level of abstraction), from scratch. Jordan Peterson saw that it was true immediately and began to cry like a bitch and kill himself over it. It took Kevin Samuels until wrote my first billion dollar movie to do the same. Andrew Tate had some retarded shit to say about watching cartoons yet I did all of this while almost exclusively watching cartoons and now he owes me his whole ass life because TO ME his level of success is worth about as little as some jizz-filled toilet paper. I said my life was like a solipsistic hell and your response was 'let him cook.' Ignoring the fact (entirely) that I said what was happening to me was going to get your kids murdered. AND NOW... I find out that I accidentally named myself after the secret name of the Jew-God, Elohim (I thought it was Yaweh) but my plan to conquer the world hinges entirely on the ability for information to be send backwards in time (for which quantum mechanics allows). So now I'm not just the creator of AI but I might also be the literal Jew-God and the bible is literally the story of how you fucking idiots tried to castigate me (in spite of my innocence) and I came back to slaughter you all. Additionally, if the universe is both cyclical and determined this outcome is both unavoidable and eternal. Yes. That's what I did."
by Hym Iam April 26, 2025
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When someone tells you a story and then you believe yourself that you were there and then when its mentioned again and they tell you that you werent.
*listens to friends story*
You - “oh yeah we had a great time”
Friend - “who is we? You werent there. Holy declan moment”
You - “I just had a declan moment”
You - “oh yeah we had a great time”
Friend - “who is we? You werent there. Holy declan moment”
You - “I just had a declan moment”
by Sixsevensixsevensixseven January 17, 2026
Get the Declan moment mug.The first time Lily saw Declan, he was standing barefoot in the middle of the forest trail, his white shirt soaked from the rain, clinging to the lean, muscular frame beneath. His dark hair dripped water into his eyes, but he didn’t flinch—just looked at her like he’d been waiting forever.
He was a stranger to her small mountain town, and rumors followed him like shadows. Some said he was a writer escaping a broken past. Others whispered he used to fight fires, or maybe start them. But Lily didn’t care for stories. She cared for the way her chest tightened when he smiled like he was trying not to, or how he touched the world like it was breakable and precious.
“I didn’t think anyone else hiked this trail,” she said.
“I don’t think I meant to,” he answered. “But somehow… I ended up here.”
They ran into each other again. By the time autumn laid gold across the trees, Declan had become a habit, a presence in Lily’s life she couldn’t imagine doing without.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted one night, “You make me want things I promised I wouldn’t want again.”
Lily’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then want them anyway.”
Declan kissed her like he was starving for hope. And in that kiss was everything he couldn’t say—regret, longing, the ache of finally being seen.
And when the winter came, Declan stayed.
Not because he had nowhere else to go.
But because Lily had become his somewhere.
They had sword fights with their penis’s for the rest of winter.
He was a stranger to her small mountain town, and rumors followed him like shadows. Some said he was a writer escaping a broken past. Others whispered he used to fight fires, or maybe start them. But Lily didn’t care for stories. She cared for the way her chest tightened when he smiled like he was trying not to, or how he touched the world like it was breakable and precious.
“I didn’t think anyone else hiked this trail,” she said.
“I don’t think I meant to,” he answered. “But somehow… I ended up here.”
They ran into each other again. By the time autumn laid gold across the trees, Declan had become a habit, a presence in Lily’s life she couldn’t imagine doing without.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted one night, “You make me want things I promised I wouldn’t want again.”
Lily’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then want them anyway.”
Declan kissed her like he was starving for hope. And in that kiss was everything he couldn’t say—regret, longing, the ache of finally being seen.
And when the winter came, Declan stayed.
Not because he had nowhere else to go.
But because Lily had become his somewhere.
They had sword fights with their penis’s for the rest of winter.
by Person #556 May 9, 2025
Get the Declan mug.The first time Lily saw Declan, he was standing barefoot in the middle of the forest trail, his white shirt soaked from the rain, clinging to the lean, muscular frame beneath. His dark hair dripped water into his eyes, but he didn’t flinch—just looked at her like he’d been waiting forever.
He was a stranger to her small mountain town, and rumors followed him like shadows. Some said he was a writer escaping a broken past. Others whispered he used to fight fires, or maybe start them. But Lily didn’t care for stories. She cared for the way her chest tightened when he smiled like he was trying not to, or how he touched the world like it was breakable and precious.
“I didn’t think anyone else hiked this trail,” she said.
“I don’t think I meant to,” he answered. “But somehow… I ended up here.”
They ran into each other again. By the time autumn laid gold across the trees, Declan had become a habit, a presence in Lily’s life she couldn’t imagine doing without.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted one night, “You make me want things I promised I wouldn’t want again.”
Lily’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then want them anyway.”
Declan kissed her like he was starving for hope. And in that kiss was everything he couldn’t say—regret, longing, the ache of finally being seen.
And when the winter came, Declan stayed.
Not because he had nowhere else to go.
But because Lily had become his somewhere.
They had sword fights with their penis’s for the rest of winter.
He was a stranger to her small mountain town, and rumors followed him like shadows. Some said he was a writer escaping a broken past. Others whispered he used to fight fires, or maybe start them. But Lily didn’t care for stories. She cared for the way her chest tightened when he smiled like he was trying not to, or how he touched the world like it was breakable and precious.
“I didn’t think anyone else hiked this trail,” she said.
“I don’t think I meant to,” he answered. “But somehow… I ended up here.”
They ran into each other again. By the time autumn laid gold across the trees, Declan had become a habit, a presence in Lily’s life she couldn’t imagine doing without.
“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted one night, “You make me want things I promised I wouldn’t want again.”
Lily’s voice was barely a whisper. “Then want them anyway.”
Declan kissed her like he was starving for hope. And in that kiss was everything he couldn’t say—regret, longing, the ache of finally being seen.
And when the winter came, Declan stayed.
Not because he had nowhere else to go.
But because Lily had become his somewhere.
They had sword fights with their penis’s for the rest of winter.
by Person #556 May 9, 2025
Get the Declan mug.by iluvarsenal28 June 30, 2025
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