B
hamudi once said: “everyday is the same i just eat, neet, sleep, eat, neet, sleep”
do we even have ‘lives’ as incels? we are not even living, in the sense of experiencing life in all its fullness; to thrive, to belong, to have a meaningful purpose, a reason to look forward to waking up the next day.
after learning the unfairness of this world, the evolutionary psychology of blackpill, women/female nature, dating/mating market, the harsh truths about finance/economics & social mobility, iq/intelligence, being non-NT (autistic), agepill, and the list of confounding variables that make it so we have little to no control over our lives, we have already become dead inside.
we are just getting by the day, whether you’re neeting, wageslaving, working a comfy job, it’s all just to pass the time as life is not so unbearable yet that we resort to suicide but rather life is gray and we are just barely surviving. this is the true hell.
there is nothing that can fill the hole of being reproductively undesirable, all copes have an end. when one cope is done, the hole is empty again, and a new cope fills in that hole. even the best copes can’t fill that hole perfectly
perhaps with age i will become more accustomed to such repetitive feelings, and i will not have to feel so intensely about being genetically unviable, in the domains of sex, love, friendships, and intelligence
do we even have ‘lives’ as incels? we are not even living, in the sense of experiencing life in all its fullness; to thrive, to belong, to have a meaningful purpose, a reason to look forward to waking up the next day.
after learning the unfairness of this world, the evolutionary psychology of blackpill, women/female nature, dating/mating market, the harsh truths about finance/economics & social mobility, iq/intelligence, being non-NT (autistic), agepill, and the list of confounding variables that make it so we have little to no control over our lives, we have already become dead inside.
we are just getting by the day, whether you’re neeting, wageslaving, working a comfy job, it’s all just to pass the time as life is not so unbearable yet that we resort to suicide but rather life is gray and we are just barely surviving. this is the true hell.
there is nothing that can fill the hole of being reproductively undesirable, all copes have an end. when one cope is done, the hole is empty again, and a new cope fills in that hole. even the best copes can’t fill that hole perfectly
perhaps with age i will become more accustomed to such repetitive feelings, and i will not have to feel so intensely about being genetically unviable, in the domains of sex, love, friendships, and intelligence
small percentage of people has fulfilling lives, everyone i know are miserable in one way or another.
