["Lucky Lucky (Original Mix)" by Jake-Tech & Paul HG is playing in the background.]
"You're a blessing."
"You're bad luck."
"You're hard not to love."
"You deserve a raise."
"You're a young god."
"Hey future Grammy winner."
"You're so fucking sweet."
"You smell good."
"He smells good as fuck."
"I wish I would have aborted you."
"Won't you leave my house on this beautiful Sunday?"
"You're nothing special."
"We'd be the talk of the club."
"We can be friends."
"Are you interested in being friends?"
"You look so handsome."
"I love your outfit. It looks amazing."
"I want your jacket bro. Where can I get it?"
"My main man."
"Employee of the month right there."
"I love you bro."
"I hate you."
"I thought you were gay when I first met you."
"You're such a kind person and you have a good spirit."
"You deserve all the happiness that comes your way."
"Give it up you suck."
"I had a lot of fun with you."
1,000 words. 1,000 smiles. 1,000 tears. 1,000 wounds. 1,000 scars.
So much joy. So much pain. So deep. So uplifting.
I greatly enjoy the compliments. I love the attention.
I love it so much. It's like a rush.
I love it when people notice me.
It's like an addiction that I never want to get rid of.
What can I do but welcome it all?
After all I can just bottle it up and stuff it down my throat, right?
I can ignore and demolish the negative.
I can smile and invite the positive, right?
After all, I got all of these cam models, strippers and escorts to provide me with erotic companionship and limitless intimacy.
And as long as I got these cam models, strippers and escorts to provide me with said erotic companionship and limitless intimacy
I'll be alright.