I wake up to my alarm playing Soulja Boy, the only artist that truly understands the value of stacks. I slam my hand down on the alarm's off button. Fuck yeah. Already killing it. I roll out of bed and put on my sweatpants and my Trick2G shirt and make my way downstairs. No time to brush my teeth or take a shower, I need to get to lane.

I sit down at the breakfast table and my mom glares at me from the other end of the kitchen. I recognize immediately through my excellent map awareness that she has seen my report card and is mad at me. "When are you going to get your life together?!?" she yells. Stupid Mom. Doesn't she know I'm going to be a beast in late game?

I finish my breakfast and begin my walk to school. As I walk into the schoolyard, I am confronted by my bully Jake. Fucking Jake. "What the heck is that fricken shirt?" he asks. How dare he mock based Trick2G. I punch him in the chest as hard as I can. He looks surprised, but otherwise unhurt. Maybe I shouldn't have invested 100% of my runes into CDR. Jake pushes me hard to the ground and begins punching me repeatedly in the face. I try to call out for a gank but realize I have no friends here. Whatever. Jake counters me, not my fault. Jake eventually leaves, and I struggle to my feet. I have cuts and bruises, but I don't need to go to the nurse, I have sustain in my kit, I'll be fine.

My first class of the day is math. I love math. I'm good at math.

3 3 = 6

6 3 = 9

9 3 = 12

It's only been five minutes and I've already counted to 12. Time for a break. I collapse into my chair and glance around the room, becoming slightly disappointed that nobody has noticed how much I have counted and started applauding. Fuckers just don't understand the struggle. Whatever. Time to keep going.

The bell rings. The rest of my normie classmates pack up their backpacks and make there way out of the room to their next class. Not me though. I am good at math. I'm going to keep doing this. Who needs that other shit? My teacher, Mr Jackson, notices that I am the last student remaining in the room, and am still furiously working on the problem "51 3 = ?". He tells me to go to my next class. I tell him to get the fuck out of my lane. He tells me to go to the principle's office. Whatever. Mr Jackson counters me, not my fault.

I arrive at the principle's office. He tells me that it is inappropriate to swear at my teacher. I tell him Trick2G and SirhcEz are the only teachers I will ever need. He gives me detention. Whatever. The Principle counters me, not my fault.

While in detention I eat the peanut butter and jelly sandwich my mom packed for me and think about how cool everybody will think I am once I hit Silver. I know I can climb easily blink picking Nasus in every game, I have just had a lot of shitty teammates. The bell rings. School's out. I sprint home.

I've got one thing in mind: the objective. And today, that objective is to win a game of League of Legends. I sit down at my computer, start up League, and begin playing. I lose the game. However, I did have the most CS on my team, so I basically won the game. I pat myself on the back with one hand as I report my teammates for feeding with my other. All my teammates died at least twice, I died zero times. I mean I got zero kills or assists as well, but that's irrelevant. It's all about the objective. I guess my team just didn't know how to play with a splitpusher.

I play a couple more games before my mom comes in to inform me that it is my bedtime. Fuck. I go to bed, having accepted that this is just Riot's fault for giving me so many counters, and sleep peacefully with dreams of obtaining even more stacks the next day.