Alas, poor PCMemes! I knew him, Libleft; a site of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy; he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar?

yeah im makin a compass. What you gonna do?

i still fight for the compass and won't stop till it comes back