Hey. My name is Tyler Adejuyigbe or BigPimpinGoku666. I fucked it all up.

It's probably obvious it's me from both my typing style and the events of the last entry. This isn't some elaborate hoax, nor is it a way to evade "assholes trying to comfort me in my own house" as Noah would have it. He's gone now. He did not leave the Internet. He did not "make like a wig and split". He's dead. And I know I sound exactly fucking like him when I say I want you people to stop messaging his AOL. He will never respond again. To be honest, it's a strange feeling. In my living room is the only evidence Noah was ever a person at all. The police confiscated everything in his house and now it's up for sale. His house is cleaner now than I've ever seen it in the five years I've been his friend.

There's no real doubt in my mind that both Johnny and I are both gonna get arrested for what we've done. Hell. In a perfect world none of this would have ever happened. Mike wouldn't have died. Him and Noah wouldn't have done... that. It would have been such a pleasant life to live, but that's just not the cards we were all dealt. In a slightly better world than what we have, the courts would have ruled what Johnny and I did as murder. But I already know what they're going to do. They're going to rule it "destruction of property" and Noah's personhood will never be relevant at all. It'll all fade into the background and he'll never be remembered in the way that Mike was. So Johnny and I both got together and lit off fireworks in our school's parking lot. It's how he would have wanted to be remembered.

To backtrack just a little, I want to thank you. Yes, it makes no sense. “Why is he thanking us? We contributed to Noah’s mental decline and the weird fucked up shit he went through? We fucked it all up for him.” And yeah. I’m not trying to absolve you all of how you made him spiral into a living hell, mind you. I just want to thank specifically the people who actually tried to help him. As much shit as he gave you (specifically weezerfanboy) he really needed it. Shame he couldn’t recognize that in time, though. I do, though. I just want to let you guys know that it really wasn’t all for naught. We appreciate what you guys tried to do.

I don’t want to make this about myself. God, I don't. But at the same time, it fucks you up when two people you truly cared about disappear in such a short span of time and it feels like nobody really… cares. It’s like nobody cares except for the spectacle of it, if that makes sense. Maybe that's the draw of true crime. I never really understood what exactly people saw in it apart from wanting to fuck Ted Bundy and thinking all serial killers are a picture perfect handsome as fuck Patrick Bateman.

Speaking of which. This regards the rest of you. The people who only care about Noah because of what he represents. The people who don’t see him as a full person that deserves to be grieved. You don’t know what it’s like to grieve and it shows more than you think. True crime can go suck a thousand dicks and maybe balls too. Lie in your shame and drown. Don’t get it twisted. I’m not posthumously publishing Noah’s stuff so that you people have more material to pick apart and analyze. I just want him to rest in peace without his ghost languishing over the fact that he never tied up his loose ends.

This is not for you. Good night and Merry Christmas Eve.