Would You Make A Tulpa If They Were Mainstream?

[zerofox21898]

-> Part of what I enjoy aobu tulpamancy is the close knit community.

Lol

Don't mind me. Just weeping for the old tulpa.info...

[Argentum]

I wouldn't call 5,000 members a large community though.

[SakuraSky]

Especially when a lot of people seem to come for a week or two and then disappear (I won't let myself be one of those!)

[Argentum]

They can't handle the red pill.

[zerofox21898]

I wouldn't call it a large number either, but still, things feel significantly less homey and serious with this many people. The number used to be drastically smaller.

And keep your red pill on /pol/

 

EDIT: Sorry to derail thread

[malesplicer]

If tulpas were mainstream would anybody here go to Tulpa conventions?

[Guest Anonymous]

If tulpas were mainstream would anybody here go to Tulpa conventions?

No.

I can just imagine it. Every single corner of the meet-up room occupied by pizza face teenagers staring at their feet and pretending to text someone on their phone. Occasionally glancing up in hope of any out, so as to avoid contributing to the communal spaghetti pile in the center of the room. Greasy fat neckbeards with enough chins to reach 57% of the way to the moon, extending a hand covered in a 2in thick paste composed of cheeto dust and sweat, in a vain attempt at starting a conversation. Through the thick lisp and accumulated spit, you can hear him choke out "SAY HI TO MY TUPPER" as he giggles to himself for using internet humor. He stands inches from you, staring, while waiting for you to talk to his tulpa. His breath smells of sour Mountain Dew and canned chicken as he inches closer to your face. Just as his face is about to touch yours, what sounds like a deflating balloon bellows over the loud speakers.

 

You breathe a sigh of relief as everyone turns to face the stage in the front of the room. You see a man with a neckbeard extending into his chest hair indistinguishably stutter into the mic as he begins to hyperventilate. You can make out a nametag pinned to his shirt with a witty phrase about imaginary friends. The nametag says "Pleeb". You can see trickles of spaghetti sauce dripping from his back pockets as he finally manages to introduce himself, and tells everyone that his tulpa is going to take the stage to finish the announcement. He stands off to the side while staring at the empty space where he once stood. Every few seconds he nods reassuringly, before nervously glancing at the crowd. After a few minutes an audible "plop" is heard as a pile of spaghetti drops from each pocket as he realizes nobody can hear his tulpa. A steady stream of marinara is flowing from his pockets as he tries to make it stop with a joke about orange showers. But it's too late. With each socially inept faux pas, the spaghetti stream becomes a torrent.

 

There is now a 5in. deep pool of spaghetti. As everyone tries to tell others to watch out for their tulpa as they flee for the exit, the spaghetti torrent turns into a spaghetti tsunami. Waves of pasta sauce sweep everyone into the spaghetti ocean. As the morbidly obese drown in their own failure, the survivors begin to climb the peaks of fat to stay above. Unable to handle the girth of the situation, many retreat to their wonderland, while drowning themselves in the now 20ft deep spaghetti tsunami. You attempt to swim for an exit, but realize they are blocked by the bodies of neckbeards. You're trapped. As you begin to lose your strength, letting the maroon waves of spaghetti overtake you, you realize that you helped cause this. A single noodle slides down your cheek as you kiss your tulpa goodbye, and you begin to sink into the saucy abyss.

[Kiahdaj]

I actually just re-read that post yesterday, Derp.

It was during one of my monthly LucidAcid appreciation/remembrance sessions.

[malesplicer]

No.

 

 

I nearly died laughing after that repost, thank you derp XD

[Argentum]

So which country gets to experience the red pasta tide?