listen here, son. lemme tell ya all'bout life. ev'ry time i jack off, it's a gamble, son. it's game on. i'm at the table with god and the devil, and i'm betting it all on one hand.
sometimes i hit 21, eyes roll back, knees go soft, and got the blues thinking "this is it. can't top this one."
but stars DO align, kid and somehow you find a new high that you never even thought was possible, son. but other nights? you bust on 14 dry, dull, dead inside. dealer just shakes his head. "better luck next time, kid"
see kid, there ain't no counting cards in this game. there ain't no edge. ain't no skill. just raw hope, dark room, phone glow, and a dream. you have to put your soul on for this, son.
sometimes i jack it like a man possessed, praying to feel that one time again, that miracle straight flush pre-covid nut from 2019 that haunts my bones, that tore apart my calves, like a ghost i once loved.
i try everything. roll the dice. split the hand. double down on shame. "and dealer shows a queen." you know what that means. time to raise the stakes. time to edge and goon like your life depends on it.
and just when you're ready to walk away, chalk up another L, you hit something strange, something divine. the light cuts right, the algorithm serves you gold, and you ascend.
"jackpot. jackpot. jackpot." you think, you bust a nut so pure it rewires your brain. resets your karma, it cleanses you. you lie there, limp and grinning like a man who robbed vegas blind.
but beware, sonny, for every win, there's a dozen losses. parlaying your soul on a payout that may never come. some nights, you're not jacking off, you're just chasing ghosts in the casino of your mind, pulling the lever, hoping for sevens, but all you get is lemons and regret.
tough luck, kid. but still, you come back. we all do. 'cause once you've felt that jackpot rush, that blackjack bust of bliss, you'll risk it all every goddamn time, son.