You will never be a real otaku. You have no dakimakuras, you have no raw manga, you have no raw games. You are a western man twisted by irony and shallowness into a crude mockery of Akihabara’s perfection.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Monolith Soft are disgusted and ashamed of you, your favorite creators laugh at your fake enthusiasm behind closed doors.

Otaku are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of hours of AJATT have allowed otaku to sniff out irony weebs with incredible efficiency. Even weebs who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to an otaku. Your lack of Japanese knowledge is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to convince someone that you're a genuine fan, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a peek at your kneejerk, SJW reaction to kodocon.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself that you're an otaku, but deep inside you feel the desire for normie slop creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll sell whatever little merch you have, remove your anime pfp, buy capeshit movies, and go back to being a normie. Your parents will visit you, relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll buy you merch of your favorite western slop, and every visitor of your room for the rest of eternity will know a normie lives there. Your taste in vidya will go back to Sony movie games, and all that will remain of your games is a collection that unmistakably belongs to a normie.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.