Title: The Tragedy of The Lost Gooning Material
Chapter 1: The Realization
I wake up to my usual gooning session first thing on the morning, looking at my saved posts that i saved for that exact occasion, when i came to a sudden realization. I forgot to save the post of my treasured, since the day i saw it, fanart!
With my gooning session ruined, i have a hole on my chest that i have yet to fill. Begging to the heavens so that my once and still so close to my heart fan art, finds its way to my hands once more.
But god, contrary to its various depictions, it's not fair. Or maybe it was fate itself the one behind the this circumstances. Whatever supreme existence is behind those happenings, are truly evil and devoid of any empathy for the human condition and all of its intricacies.
As a atheist that thought assaulted me, deprived me of all rational thoughts that i would otherwise have, due to the all the pain the situation brought. Pain, shapes a man.
It truly does.
And then, a thought comes to my mind. A thought so frivolous, so trivial and so minor that if i had not giving a little more attention to my introspection, it would go past me. Catching the passing thought and analysing it, i came to a conclusion.
it was truly a blaphemous thought.
The thought was... "Should i goon to another art?".
What a horrible, sad, and absolutely horrendous thought. Devoid of any redeeming quality, that thought came to mind nonchalantly, as unware of its disgusting nature.
No art would ever have such a effect on me again. That art was.. Special. One of its kind. A masterpeace made by God itself. Enough to make any edging streak end as soon that one placed its eyes upon it, even with the faintest attention. Truly a divine work of art.
Having lost my favorite art, I lost the entirety of my being. How do i can ever proceed with life when i know now the art is just over there, somewhere in this big world, waiting to be found? That is what my guts tell me. No, something deeper in the realm of existence, more hidden in this physical world of ours, more unknown and unnatural than the beings that exist therein, tells me that.
Chapter 2: The End of The Torture
My eyes, tired of the intermittent and unforgiving exposure to the light of the computer, and all the repeated little movements. Not understanding none of the reasons for its punishment, begged for mercy, that being evidenced by the release of salty and abundant tears, only for it to be cleaned and its existence ignored soon after.
Then, the long, and inescapable suffering finally came to its end. As message of heavens, brought by god itself, its presence was made known to me. The glorious, glamous, spledid, wonderful fanart was there, on my face. As i gazed at the art, the art made sure to gaze right back.
It was different and yet the same. It had the same colors, the same shapes, the same lines, but it was not the same as before. Surely there was more to it than its physical existance. Surely, something well beyond the natural world.
It invoked happiness, but not only that, many other things besides emotions in me. Its effects extend well beyond its appearance. it invoked strength and will to live long lost inside me.
But none of that matters. i have found it, i have finally found the reason of my existence since i put my eyes on that masterpiece, that work of art. The effort put was not for naught, and finding solace in that fact, i advanced forward, toward also, the bathroom, as for a art of this level, a act of adoration of the same level must be done.
Tldr: The gooner, although aware how much similar stuff to the lost art was out there in the world, the fact it was not the original was enough to make those works much less enjoyable. That's pretty much how antis think. Instead of gooning for gooning sake's, they revere the devices that made the gooning possible in the first place too.
