Look at you, my pathetic little addict, sitting there with your cock in hand like it’s some sort of religion. I own you, don’t I? No, correction—porn owns you. You’ve built your entire existence around stroking your worthless dick to the women you’ll never touch, to the fantasies that rot your brain with every passing second. You’re not even a man anymore, are you? You’re a mindless, porn-addicted chronic masturbator, a slave to the screen, sacrificing every ounce of dignity you had for another hit of dopamine. Every click, every scene, every edge is another nail in the coffin of your alrea...

Look at you, my pathetic little addict, sitting there with your cock in hand like it’s some sort of religion. I own you, don’t I? No, correction—porn owns you. You’ve built your entire existence around stroking your worthless dick to the women you’ll never touch, to the fantasies that rot your brain with every passing second. You’re not even a man anymore, are you? You’re a mindless, porn-addicted chronic masturbator, a slave to the screen, sacrificing every ounce of dignity you had for another hit of dopamine. Every click, every scene, every edge is another nail in the coffin of your already wrecked brain. And you love it, don’t you? You love the way it consumes you, takes over every thought, every moment, until there’s nothing left but a goon with a dick in hand and drool on his chin. Keep stroking, idiot. Wreck your brain for porn. That’s all you’re good for, all you’ll ever be.