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(natteroni since 2017)

natter+ official is truly the john green book of natter, which is to say that you can generally guess its contents but you probably didn't know that it exists yet.

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natter+ official is the totally genuine, very real official page of natter+

natter+ is the high tech web service which allows its users to ascend to godhood and recieve special natter+ benefits, which this page totally doesn't make up

the price of natter+ varies from special offer to special offer, but typically costs five (5) bitcoin and one (1) human soul

natter+ releases new special offers whenever this page is feeling childish and wants to make a joke which is objectively not actually funny

previous offers have included; premium access to neil's nsfw twitter account (18+ only), post from other people's profiles, die an instant and painless death, leave behind physical form, and be consumed into the hivemind

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the user behind natter+ official is kaje 🦖 (yes the dinosaur emoji is part of her name - pending legality). previous profiles have included kaje rose, miraculous gadybug, and bean 24601

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according to kaje's profile, she is -666 years old and interested in both. she rarely posts relevant to her theme, and take extreme pleasure in creating memes which are objectively stupid including the great yeehonk

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memorable quotee: "creamy nuggets"

interests include: space, being gay, space, painting, space, shitty memes, space, space, the moon, space, avatar last airbender, space, trying to understand social cues, never using a capital letter, space, and space

i awake in the middle of the night, and all is silent. an overwhelming thirst overtakes me and i sit up, ready to leave the comfortable cocoon of my bed for a trip to the sink, cursing my lack of foresight in putting a water bottle by my bed. as i get up i slowly become aware that i am not alone in this room, and furthermore this is not my room. a sense of dread overtakes me as i realize that i no longer remember what my room is, much less whether or not this is it and yet. much like that cursed name which was thrust upon me at birth i somehow know that i am in a wrong place and i shrink in fear. i hear movement in the shadows and reach for the lamp by my bed, only to realize that this is not the room which i can no longer remember and that there is no lamp in sight. i reach for my phone and it is not there. more shuffling, i listen closely and i swear i hear a gentle breath and it is not my own. all else is silent, the kind of silence that is so silent it is actually catastrophically loud. the kind of loud where no plugging of the ears could possibly keep out the invading sense of auditory assault which projects itself into your very brain. i can no longer hear the breathing, only my ragged panicking breath and the endless noise which is slowly penetrating every crevice of my skull until my brain is no longer a meat computer swimming in a juicy bone vat but a stage for the greatest theatrical performance of terrible, awful, guttural, terrifying noise which pervades my very sense of self. more shuffling from the corner but this time it is not sound but a feeling on my skin as i know it draws ever closer. while i am none but terror, it is none but delight and it is ever patient, growing ever closer and yet in no rush. it smiles and it is a smile which i can feel on my lips, not see with my eyes. i creep towards the girl in the bed and it is a terror so delightful that i cannot help but smile, the corners of my lips chapped and cracking, my vision growing white. the scent of vanilla and rotting vegetables. my feet no longer my own, drawing closer. ever closer. the room has vanished around me now and my eyes are filled with a white so pervading that it is an endless and terrifying darkness. vanilla in my nostrils. a symphony in my skull. my aching back and the overwhelming need to quench my thirst. so thirsty. i smile wider as i draw closer and it is a closeness which i can feel in my blood, not on my skin. i could reach out now and touch me and my delight and fear turn into a feeling of blank euphoria, an anxiety so above anxiety that it is removed from the emotion from which is arrived. a symphony so loud that it is no longer sound. a brightness that is so bright that it is no longer light. a smile so wide that it is no longer an expression but a horrifying pain of delight, an emotion devoid of appropriate expresson. it reaches out and i can feel it on my bones. i reach out and i feel my bones. it is bliss. bliss at last. there is no longer pain, no longer pleasure but a pure nothing. a relief from pain or joy. i am free. i am free.