![gummybearcel](/data/avatars/m/57/57631.jpg?1705875268)
gummybearcel
no gummy for your face
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- Joined
- Oct 19, 2023
- Posts
- 1,175
I try and convince myself that life is fine. I even tried to deactivate my incels.is account because I wanted to '''move on'''.
Then I go outside. Every time I go outside it's the same.
What retarded normie cope - 'touch grass'. This only works if you're not an incel.
Every time I go out normies glare at me with these stupid fucking bug-eyed stares, all because I made the sacrilegious decision to occupy the same fucking infrastructure as them. They look at me as if my mere presence is a fucking bomb, as if there's a digital timer on my face counting down to zero.
I am reminded of just how stupid life is, how I will never be able to experience love or equilibrium, how I will always be viewed as a disgusting freak; a villain, no matter what I do, even if I mind my own business - how it's always been the same, and how I missed out on normalcy and will be forever mentally crippled by the pain of isolation. All because of the way I look.
Then I think: what is the point? It's impossible to pick up hobbies or work toward any goal, because I know that the destination is the same as the beginning. It is that same stare. I am that same villain. None of it matters.
Then I go outside. Every time I go outside it's the same.
What retarded normie cope - 'touch grass'. This only works if you're not an incel.
Every time I go out normies glare at me with these stupid fucking bug-eyed stares, all because I made the sacrilegious decision to occupy the same fucking infrastructure as them. They look at me as if my mere presence is a fucking bomb, as if there's a digital timer on my face counting down to zero.
I am reminded of just how stupid life is, how I will never be able to experience love or equilibrium, how I will always be viewed as a disgusting freak; a villain, no matter what I do, even if I mind my own business - how it's always been the same, and how I missed out on normalcy and will be forever mentally crippled by the pain of isolation. All because of the way I look.
Then I think: what is the point? It's impossible to pick up hobbies or work toward any goal, because I know that the destination is the same as the beginning. It is that same stare. I am that same villain. None of it matters.