[SIRS.] Conglomerate Coalition of Exquisite Gentlemen

You poor things... Floating around in space without a direction to go. Destined to float endlessly into the dark void of New Eden forever without a purpose.. My feels can feel your feel's feels so much so that their having a weepathon of feels and to mourn your tragically tragic life and repent the tyranny that is consuming and conflicting with the sequentially profound order of events that you keep your life in. Thus exuberantly ridding the ridiculous chaos of events that have befeld you're righteous path of stuffs that normal people do in their spare time. Might the morality of what those who have brought unto thee, feel the burden of their own agonizing mutiny of which you feel. Bringing harmony and equality to those who have withstood the vast torments of leadership and discourage the exponetially distasteful asskissery. May peace and equality be brought once again to the exquisitely pronounced and just beauty of New Eden. My feels go out to you my good sirs..