Thanks for the 5,500 Retards ♡
Turn loneliness into sends.
Turn anxiety into fllushies.
Turn Monday morning into fist-fucking your future away.
Turn isolation into Twitch subs.
Turn rejection into Throne notifications.
Turn your future into my spending money ≈
Keep ruining yourself for internet neet's ^^
your way cuter as findom addict's anyway ~
Thanks for the few hundred today.
Hope you realize how dumb you were and hate yourself more for it...
Have fun pacing around your room.
Have fun checking your phone every 3 minutes like something exciting is finally about to happen.
Have fun rereading old messages.
Have fun refreshing timelines.
Have fun lurking in communities you've been "leaving" for years.
Have fun watching people your age move in together.
Get married.
Have children.
Build things.
Travel.
Collect memories.
Meanwhile you'll be collecting email notification's of throne recipes....
Have fun telling yourself next month will be different.
Have fun announcing your gonna stop than never do.
And if you haven't wasted your entire evening $ending?
Don't worry.
Look forward to another long night staring at a glowing rectangle.
Look forward to another struggle session where you try not to $end.
Look forward to tomorrow.
And then the tomorrow after that.
And then the one after that ≈
It never ends for findom addicts^^
Thanks soooo much for the monies today! It’s good to know how much you all hate yourself. Your little self harm addiction and you call it Findom ^^
Never met a finsub who didn’t deserve to feel like shit :3
Don’t stop ~
thanks for the money, i guess.
hope it fixed whatever was wrong for at least 10 minutes.
all i did was tell you the voices in your head were right.
all i did was agree with the things you already believed about yourself ≈
Gonna be house shopping the next few days.
The nearly $6,000 helped.
Just wanted to remind some of you of the life you built to help make it happen.
Skipped meals.
Lonely nights spent jerking off alone.
Turning your own mental illness into a monthly expense.
Handing over cash to people who truly despise you, only to be forgotten the moment you stop sending.
All of it added up.
For what?
You still think things will somehow turn it around?
That next year will be different?
That you'll finally get your shit together.
That you'll find someone.
That one day you'll have a life everyone else want's to be part of.
But years keep passing.
The tabs stay open.
The balances keep shrinking.
And the future keeps getting pushed back another week.
Then another.
Then another.
You'll never have a child running across the room and crashing into your arms.
You won't have someone choosing you back year after year.
No tiny hand in yours at the park.
No family dinners.
No lazy Sunday mornings with someone who actually loves you.
No quiet pride that comes from building something real.
No feeling of coming home to people who are genuinely happy to see you.
Instead, you'll be right where you've always been.
Alone.
Staring at your screen.
$ending.
$ending.
$ending.
Doing that sad little mental math to justify a few more sends.
Telling yourself this is the last time.
Telling yourself next week will be different.
Telling yourself you're still in control.
And then doing it all over again.
Anyway, make sure to keep dispensing while I'm shopping for a home, findom addicted failure.
Gonna be house shopping the next few days.
The nearly $6,000 helped.
Just wanted to remind some of you of the life you built to help make it happen.
Skipped meals.
Lonely nights spent jerking off alone.
Turning your own mental illness into a monthly expense.
Handing over cash to people who truly despise you, only to be forgotten the moment you stop sending.
All of it added up.
For what?
You still think things will somehow turn it around?
That next year will be different?
That you'll finally get your shit together.
That you'll find someone.
That one day you'll have a life everyone else want's to be part of.
But years keep passing.
The tabs stay open.
The balances keep shrinking.
And the future keeps getting pushed back another week.
Then another.
Then another.
You'll never have a child running across the room and crashing into your arms.
You won't have someone choosing you back year after year.
No tiny hand in yours at the park.
No family dinners.
No lazy Sunday mornings with someone who actually loves you.
No quiet pride that comes from building something real.
No feeling of coming home to people who are genuinely happy to see you.
Instead, you'll be right where you've always been.
Alone.
Staring at your screen.
$ending.
$ending.
$ending.
Doing that sad little mental math to justify a few more sends.
Telling yourself this is the last time.
Telling yourself next week will be different.
Telling yourself you're still in control.
And then doing it all over again.
Anyway, make sure to keep dispensing while I'm shopping for a home, findom addicted failure.
why is every sub account just reposts?
you people truly have nothing of value to say, huh?
anyway.
keep staring at your paycheck and debating how to make your $ends stretch. That is, if you relapse. Which you surely won’t, right?
Or are you gonna keep lying to yourself and say you’re gonna stop Findom next week, and then relapse again. Like you always do.
Anyway, get to $ending so you can have more excuses contemplate how nothing would change if you were gone. Honestly it really might be best, it’s kinda sad how for most of you your parents gotta see your sad lonely being, daily!
But we can’t do that, huh, then who’s gonna make everyone around them uncomfy.
Keep staying in every night. Keep refreshing the timeline again. Keep checking throne for the third time this hour to see how much that domme made.
Keep hoping one of the same five accounts sent.
Lie to yourself.
Lie like you always do.
“i’m quitting this time.” “i’m serious.” “just one more send then i’m done.”
tomorrow.
tomorrow.
tomorrow^^
Always tomorrow.
Spend years with your face in front of glowing screens.
years of tiny dopamine hits from hours of your life gone to a digital world.
years of substituting tributes instead of the pain of starting a conversation with a new person.
substituting sends for actual relationships.
substituting the rush for the emptiness of everything else…
Is it even the money anymore?
Or some pathetic routine. the familiarity.
The ache in your stomach when you see a throne notification and the financial self-harm can’t be taken back.
But you don’t stop…
What?
Are you hard?
pumppp!
keep goinggg.
pumppp, pumppp, pumppp~
anndd again.
again.
what are you?..
who do you belong to?..
…that’s right.
that’s a good fucking wallet~ keep goinggg, keep pumpinggg~
Fucking dog…
another week passes. another paycheck arrives. another promise to change. another night spent staring at a screen instead of another human being…
see you here tomorrow, loser. same time.
Just refresh your feed Maddy is always here^^
Wallet ~
it’s okay to feel more comfortable $hredding than talking to people^^
I know eye contact can be scary for some! Just stay inside, it’s better for you anyway.
Findom is your only friend
"this is my last send"
retweets another 14 findom posts ~
"i seriously need to quit"
checks the same 6 dommes profiles before bed
"im trying to recover"
likes every throne screenshot and refreshes twitter every hour to see who drained who ≈
subs are so funny
you people act like the problem is sending money when you're still marinating in the exact same community, reading the exact same captions, following the exact same profiles and feeding the exact same part of your brain^^
like wow good job not sending for 3 days
surely staring at findom content for 8 hours instead will solve everything ♡
The funniest thing about some of you ♡
You took every bad feeling you've ever had and turned it into a personality.,,
Lonely?
Make it a kink.
Rejected?
Make it a kink.
Embarrassed?
Make it a kink.
You people experience a completely normal human emotion and immediately start romanticizing it instead of fixing it ≈
No wonder you're stuck.
Everything becomes part of the fantasy.
Every setback.
Every awkward conversation.
Every Saturday night spent alone^^
At some point you stopped wanting a better life and started wanting a more interesting excuse for why you don't have one ♡
Call yourself a failed tgirl.
A faildomme.
A paypig.
Whatever cute little label helps you avoid admitting what's actually going on...
Because nobody forces you to click send.
Not the girls.
Not the 2dfd.
Not the guys.
Not the internet.
Not your loneliness.
You do it yourself.
Then afterwards you sit there staring at the receipt. Bite your pillow, slap your face. Come up with a story that makes it sound less ridiculous...
You people will invent entire identities before taking responsibility for your own decisions...
But keep making excuses.
Keep calling it fate.
Keep calling it addiction.
Keep calling it destiny.
Nothing changes.
Nothing will stop the little voices in your head, i know what they say...
"if i died today, nobody would care, might as well send"
"fuck i cant believe i am doing this"
it's fine, differen't excuses, but some stuff doesn't change.
The same room.
The same screen.
The same habits.
the same truth.
if you dies today.
the world would be better off
Anyway...
I'm getting pretty close to 6k now.
Wonder which lonely retard is going to help me get there tonight ≈
You know what I find funny? ♡
Some of you genuinely have nothing waiting for you when you put your phone down…
No plans.
No invitations.
No one wondering where you are tonight!
Just endless scrolling, endless consumption and endless little rituals to distract yourself from the fact that your life has quietly become a waiting room ≈
Waiting for notifications.
Waiting for attention.
Waiting for something to happen.
It never does^^
So you taptaptap for findom like a retard
Anyway, before you spend another 4 hours refreshing the same apps hoping somebody notices you…
Be a good little freak and follow my backup.
We’ve both know you invested far to much into this weird little parasocial arrangement to lose it all now…
@Maddy2dfdbackup
wow another 100 ~
dont stop now^^
sundays get really long in the afternoon when ur alone with ur thoughts and nobody is texting u...
might as well relapse a little and make the horrible empty feeling go away for 5 minutes≈
passed 5k on throne now i think
also drained 4 digits today which is kind of absurd.
i can see the throne visits too lol everyone lurking and pocket watching trying to figure out who sent what.
subs are sooo funny
u people want recognition so badly but honestly i think being anonymous disposable income for internet neets is more beautiful≈
keep relapsing.
keep trying to quit.
keep having little mental breakdowns and ending up right back here anyway^^
i love my little findom addicts ♡
passed 5k on throne now i think
also drained 4 digits today which is kind of absurd.
i can see the throne visits too lol everyone lurking and pocket watching trying to figure out who sent what.
subs are sooo funny
u people want recognition so badly but honestly i think being anonymous disposable income for internet neets is more beautiful≈
keep relapsing.
keep trying to quit.
keep having little mental breakdowns and ending up right back here anyway^^
i love my little findom addicts ♡
Sundays are always the hardest for people like you ♡
There is too much free time.
Too much silence.
Too much time spent sitting in your room, watching everyone else prepare for another ordinary week while you simply… exist.
No plans.
No one texting you.
Nothing waiting for you beyond these screens…
So you scroll.
You refresh.
You stare at Throne links, livestreams, anything, as the weight in your chest grows heavier and heavier…
Sundays have a way of reminding you just how alone you really are, don’t they?
But don’t worry… you can always $end and buy yourself a few minutes of sweet relief ^^
Isn’t that what you already end up doing… lonely little findom addict^^