By the most extraordinary of coincidences I ran into one of my boys from a lifetime ago at high school, just now on my walk from work to the train.
So naturally we went to the bar at the station and necked an IPA or 3 and caught up on a decade of gossip and history.
When you don't have a wife/gf/partner in your life, friends who've been with you for a long time and born witness to your efforts, your successes and your failures, they mean a lot. I was quite fucked up by my inceldom during my late teens and early 20s as a university student. So today I'm very pleased with myself, that during that lowest period in my life, I managed to avoid embarassing myself in front of my bros from high school by crying and reeeing to them too excessively about my inceldom. Today, in their eyes I'm some kind of good income, low debt, no kids, un-pc mountain man who doesn't have most of the worries they have in life. It's not what I would have ever set out looking for but it's something and it feels good.
And hearing about some of the shit my boys have been up to makes me feel... just at peace with the world.
Apparently high school bro no.3 (who, when he was 22, tried to fuck 100 women in one year - and achieved to about 60-ish IIRC) got divorced from his cool American Becky wife this year and he's devastated by it. But he is coping by making money in Europe and spending it perving at 20yo tourists in clubs in Ibiza. Bro no.2 is busy raising his 3 kids with his trad wife and nobody hears much from him these days. My mate himself has climbed out of the hole he was in 5 years ago, when his wife sacked him for cheating and tried to take custody of their boy. Today he's living with a foid who's fatter and uglier than his ex wife, but wealthy and much cooler than her also, and he seems happy.
I feel like as Incels we are often our own worst critics. We doubt ourselves, we condemn ourselves through the eyes of the imaginary foids we think are watching us and scorning us all the time.
And of course the blackpilling experiences we all know about ARE real, and they ARE hard.
But the truly unlucky man, is the incel who doesn't have any counterbalance to all of that. Doesn't have any reality check. Doesn't have anyone at all to lift him up. Doesn't have anyone to drag him up out of the suffocating feeling that inceldom is all that there is. Doesn’t have the platonic love of bros who've shared a lifetime of history with you, and been there to hand you a beer after you struggled, achieved, or failed. Were happy to see you happy, we're worried when you were down. People who will try to be there, in some respect, even when they can't really relate.
Stay strong brocels. I love you all. (No homo.)
I will disavow all of these statements when I'm sober.
So naturally we went to the bar at the station and necked an IPA or 3 and caught up on a decade of gossip and history.
When you don't have a wife/gf/partner in your life, friends who've been with you for a long time and born witness to your efforts, your successes and your failures, they mean a lot. I was quite fucked up by my inceldom during my late teens and early 20s as a university student. So today I'm very pleased with myself, that during that lowest period in my life, I managed to avoid embarassing myself in front of my bros from high school by crying and reeeing to them too excessively about my inceldom. Today, in their eyes I'm some kind of good income, low debt, no kids, un-pc mountain man who doesn't have most of the worries they have in life. It's not what I would have ever set out looking for but it's something and it feels good.
And hearing about some of the shit my boys have been up to makes me feel... just at peace with the world.
Apparently high school bro no.3 (who, when he was 22, tried to fuck 100 women in one year - and achieved to about 60-ish IIRC) got divorced from his cool American Becky wife this year and he's devastated by it. But he is coping by making money in Europe and spending it perving at 20yo tourists in clubs in Ibiza. Bro no.2 is busy raising his 3 kids with his trad wife and nobody hears much from him these days. My mate himself has climbed out of the hole he was in 5 years ago, when his wife sacked him for cheating and tried to take custody of their boy. Today he's living with a foid who's fatter and uglier than his ex wife, but wealthy and much cooler than her also, and he seems happy.
I feel like as Incels we are often our own worst critics. We doubt ourselves, we condemn ourselves through the eyes of the imaginary foids we think are watching us and scorning us all the time.
And of course the blackpilling experiences we all know about ARE real, and they ARE hard.
But the truly unlucky man, is the incel who doesn't have any counterbalance to all of that. Doesn't have any reality check. Doesn't have anyone at all to lift him up. Doesn't have anyone to drag him up out of the suffocating feeling that inceldom is all that there is. Doesn’t have the platonic love of bros who've shared a lifetime of history with you, and been there to hand you a beer after you struggled, achieved, or failed. Were happy to see you happy, we're worried when you were down. People who will try to be there, in some respect, even when they can't really relate.
Stay strong brocels. I love you all. (No homo.)
I will disavow all of these statements when I'm sober.
