I truly believed that everything I did was for the good of SDBH. I believed that one day after all the unpleasantness was behind us we would emerge from the ashes standing high above the world. That just around the corner was the shitpost utopia I'd dreamt of since I was a child, wallowing in the ghettos of Reddit, with nothing to my name but an empty sky to fill with my hopes and dreams.
I've lived a long life in basement-dweller years. In my time I've seen SDBH evolve into what it is now.
But I couldn't stop yearning for the glory days
The days when mods roamed free and users only lived in fear depending on their menstrual cycles. The days when SDBH was nothing but a group of autists who had nothing in common other than the fact that they were fresh off the boats from Reddit, and shouted in unison before God and Man "fuck mick we'll make our own soapboxbanhammer".
I can't say I will ever stop missing that time. Certainly, by now, I've come to accept that the world has changed before me and those days can never be reclaimed. But they will always live in the warmest pits of my very very broken soul. And I will always hope and believe that one day when I pass on, I will find all the old shitposters we've lost waiting to welcome me, and all of us, at the gates of SoapDoxValhallaHammer.
Though I will be moving on, SDBH must continue to pursue its path. What that path is, I haven't the right to even suggest. This, already, is an SDBH that lives in a different time. An era when the mods simply keep a passive watch and the salt of this world need not fear the hammer. An SDBH in which it is clear, I simply do not belong.
I do not think that I have the right to ask for mercy nor forgiveness. Not after everything I've done. I owe at least that much to the countless innocents I've banned...
It's such a beautiful day...
No me.