{TEARFUEL} I found my old facebook account from when I was 15

[Dr. Autismo]

I found my old facebook account.
Back when I was 15, one of my half brothers created a facebook account for me, even though I had no interest in facebook, so I never used the account.
I let it rot and remain dormant after all these years until I decided to look it up.
It remains exactly the same too.
My pfp is a picture of me, sitting on the sofa and holding my infant nephew, and smiling at the camera.
I looked so fucking different back then, I looked so young and innocent.
I've only seen a few photos of me, but not one that dates back to when I was 15.
I was different back then, same with my life.
My profile greeting still remains the same after all these years.

It goes:
"Hi, I'm {REAL NAME}, I'm 15, I like comics and games, and I'm looking for my school friends"

 

[THE TRUE DIGLET]

I was using miiverse at 15

 

[lonelysince2006]

Brutal. All of us had hopes and dreams, don't forget that. We were all children once, looking towards the bright future that awaited us. I remember being 9 and thinking to myself "13 is sure a long way to go. That's 4 years. I'll have grown a mustache by then." And now I'm here, 9 years later, all my dreams shattered, my hopes destroyed. The flame is gone. There is nothing to live for. The passion that I had for life no longer exists. And it wasn't one single event that put it out, it was a life of complete and total misery and torment—being friendless, bullied, and completely alone in the Hideous world that chose to make me suffer. All throughout my adolescence, it was like a thousand sharp, red-hot needles stabbing into my skin. People's words were like relentless hammers hitting my heart. My stomach would drop and my face would turn red every time my bullies humiliated me. I'm not bullied anymore, but a dull feeling of pain still persists.

It's like the universe senses an anomaly and tries to forcefully erase it, get rid of it, like vacuums that exist briefly only to vanish as the space around them closes in. That's why we suffer, because others sense we are not normal, we're not supposed to be here, and they torment us, taking away what little calm we have and replacing it with torture.

In the words of Christopher Swanson (1971–2013):

The tears keep pouring out. I hate this world. I hate it. I hate everything about it. That's all I have to look forward to: more pain, more tears, sobbing, crying. I wish I had never been born. I wish I would just drop over dead so the pain would end.

 

[NeverEvenBegan]

 

[Dr. Autismo]

Brutal. All of us had hopes and dreams, don't forget that. We were all children once, looking towards the bright future that awaited us. I remember being 9 and thinking to myself "13 is sure a long way to go. That's 4 years. I'll have grown a mustache by then." And now I'm here, 9 years later, all my dreams shattered, my hopes destroyed. The flame is gone. There is nothing to live for. The passion that I had for life no longer exists. And it wasn't one single event that put it out, it was a life of complete and total misery and torment—being friendless, bullied, and completely alone in the Hideous world that chose to make me suffer. All throughout my adolescence, it was like a thousand sharp, red-hot needles stabbing into my skin. People's words were like relentless hammers hitting my heart. My stomach would drop and my face would turn red every time my bullies humiliated me. I'm not bullied anymore, but a dull feeling of pain still persists.

It's like the universe senses an anomaly and tries to forcefully erase it, get rid of it, like vacuums that exist briefly only to vanish as the space around them closes in. That's why we suffer, because others sense we are not normal, we're not supposed to be here, and they torment us, taking away what little calm we have and replacing it with torture.

In the words of Christopher Swanson (1971–2013):

The tears keep pouring out. I hate this world. I hate it. I hate everything about it. That's all I have to look forward to: more pain, more tears, sobbing, crying. I wish I had never been born. I wish I would just drop over dead so the pain would end.

I wish I could tell my 15 year old self about the future, what will happen and how to live a better life.
That young, innocent and happy 15 year old boy is dead, and I'm his ghost, aimlessly wandering through the world with no destination until I evaporate and enter the afterlife.

 

[Incline]

Brutal. All of us had hopes and dreams, don't forget that. We were all children once, looking towards the bright future that awaited us. I remember being 9 and thinking to myself "13 is sure a long way to go. That's 4 years. I'll have grown a mustache by then." And now I'm here, 9 years later, all my dreams shattered, my hopes destroyed. The flame is gone. There is nothing to live for. The passion that I had for life no longer exists. And it wasn't one single event that put it out, it was a life of complete and total misery and torment—being friendless, bullied, and completely alone in the Hideous world that chose to make me suffer. All throughout my adolescence, it was like a thousand sharp, red-hot needles stabbing into my skin. People's words were like relentless hammers hitting my heart. My stomach would drop and my face would turn red every time my bullies humiliated me. I'm not bullied anymore, but a dull feeling of pain still persists.

It's like the universe senses an anomaly and tries to forcefully erase it, get rid of it, like vacuums that exist briefly only to vanish as the space around them closes in. That's why we suffer, because others sense we are not normal, we're not supposed to be here, and they torment us, taking away what little calm we have and replacing it with torture.

In the words of Christopher Swanson (1971–2013):

The tears keep pouring out. I hate this world. I hate it. I hate everything about it. That's all I have to look forward to: more pain, more tears, sobbing, crying. I wish I had never been born. I wish I would just drop over dead so the pain would end.

Not me man

I knew my life will be over from a very young age. From 11-12 I already predicted that my life will look something like this. Although at least money wise I was wrong, I thought I'll be homeless or work some minimum wage job, I am doing slightly better than that.

 

[benzocel]

I knew my life will be over from a very young age. From 11-12 I already predicted that my life will look something like this.

same

 

[Pajeetsingh]

I found my old facebook account.
Back when I was 15, one of my half brothers created a facebook account for me, even though I had no interest in facebook, so I never used the account.
I let it rot and remain dormant after all these years until I decided to look it up.
It remains exactly the same too.
My pfp is a picture of me, sitting on the sofa and holding my infant nephew, and smiling at the camera.
I looked so fucking different back then, I looked so young and innocent.
I've only seen a few photos of me, but not one that dates back to when I was 15.
I was different back then, same with my life.
My profile greeting still remains the same after all these years.

It goes:
"Hi, I'm {REAL NAME}, I'm 15, I like comics and games, and I'm looking for my school friends"

same. Except I logged back in somehow ,changed my pfp and locked my account forever. (Won't delete tho because join datepilled)

 

[psyop]

I knew my life will be over from a very young age. From 11-12 I already predicted that my life will look something like this.