S
You are born; you hear your parents laugh at how ugly you are as a baby. Surely they don't mean any evil, they know you'll grow up to be a handsome man.
You are 5 years old; you are shorter than your kindergarten mates, and the little girls never hold your hand when playing in the sandbox. You look around at everyone having fun, while you pick your boogers out. Your caretaker looks at you and pities you and she forces you to go play with the other kids. The other kids look at you weirdly and you autistically just go back and eat up your nasal infectious misery.
You are 11 years old. You are in school now and you become the 'he's so ugly' of the class. You look around and you see girls playfully fight with your classmates; you try to do the same to your crush and she echoes the biggest ew ever heard in the history of that school. She tells you to leave her alone, while you sadly go back to your desk and scroll on your phone. You don't understand what's wrong with you.
You are 14 years old. At this point you start to get it. You know that there's something wrong with you. You see your colleagues grow up, having growth spurts, getting a jawline, having voice changes, slowly becoming male teenagers. You are still a child - you might get the pedo stache, but you are fragile, weak and clearly lack development. Nobody talks to you, you are the weird kid of the school. All you do at this point is cope with video games, anime, goyslop and porn.
You are 16 years old. This is the peak of your blackpill experience. At this point, you are in highschool and you see and hear chads flattering about fucking stacies and getting their dick sucked. Your female classmates giggle and twirl their hair around while you are having your headphones in your ears, looking at it all. This is a spectacle to you - this is the spectacle of life; and you are a spectator. You are an inessential artifact of the way life goes; you wonder what you did wrong; why did God punish you? At this point in life, you understand it - you are ugly. You become blackpilled; slowly but surely, you know it is over - in fact, it never began.
Your 'friends' start subtly making fun of you for being a loser with no women while they boast about their catches. Every day you wake up and you look in the mirror and you wish you could skin yourself alive. You are butt naked, taking a look at your subhuman frame, your underdeveloped chin, your small dick, your manletism, your shit eyes, bad hair, and the eternal pedo stache. You barely grew in height, you barely look like a human. You start crying. You can't believe this is your life...
You search the internet and you find out, hey, there's still hope! Women love men who are serious, who have great jobs, great earnings, great achievements - not pretty boys, but REAL men. So you start grinding your academics, you start grinding your soul and you get into the good university.
You get in college - in the dorms. This is the point where most ugly men have the strongest desire to kill themselves. Now, every action that was hidden in adolescence is in full display within the student community. You hear people banging, you see people going to clubs, parties, posting snapchat stories of women twerking on their dick. What do you do? You rot in your college room. You look at BP edits on youtube and find out about incels.is. You are officially a ghost, human remains. Nobody talks to you, nobody sees you, nobody notices you. You haunt the hallrooms, you haunt the corridors, you haunt the dorms - you are a dead man walking.
At this point, you get it. There is no cope. There is no hope. Women settle for the uglies after they grinded their shit, subhuman life away. You realize that you will never be loved the way Chad is loved. You realize that this is the way you die - in your room, with your musty underwear having stains of cum, playing shit vidya while watching porn and mindlessly scrolling through internet forums. You sometimes look at the clock and decide to go to sleep. Your parents start bothering you about getting a job, maybe asking you about getting a girlfriend. Meanwhile, you never even held a girl's hand. Truthfully... you never even existed.
And so it ends. From this point on, you are slowly rotting away, awaiting death. You sometimes feel like 'maybe.. maybe things will change', only to see a 6'8 Tyrone telling women that he's a convicted child rapist and he still gets invited to threesomes. You sometimes feel like you are wrong, only to see Meek become a millionaire and fucking models. You sometimes feel like your looksmatch at the corner shop might give you her phone number, only to overhear her talk about getting smashed and getting her guts rearranged by ex boyfriend, while she's in a relationship as it is.
Guys... there is no hope. Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. You are born to rot and die. You are born to consume and wonder. You are born to witness the spectacle of life. That is all you are here for. And you, all of you, all of us, are doing our roles properly. Good job, never stand up, and don't forget - it is and will always be over.
You are 5 years old; you are shorter than your kindergarten mates, and the little girls never hold your hand when playing in the sandbox. You look around at everyone having fun, while you pick your boogers out. Your caretaker looks at you and pities you and she forces you to go play with the other kids. The other kids look at you weirdly and you autistically just go back and eat up your nasal infectious misery.
You are 11 years old. You are in school now and you become the 'he's so ugly' of the class. You look around and you see girls playfully fight with your classmates; you try to do the same to your crush and she echoes the biggest ew ever heard in the history of that school. She tells you to leave her alone, while you sadly go back to your desk and scroll on your phone. You don't understand what's wrong with you.
You are 14 years old. At this point you start to get it. You know that there's something wrong with you. You see your colleagues grow up, having growth spurts, getting a jawline, having voice changes, slowly becoming male teenagers. You are still a child - you might get the pedo stache, but you are fragile, weak and clearly lack development. Nobody talks to you, you are the weird kid of the school. All you do at this point is cope with video games, anime, goyslop and porn.
You are 16 years old. This is the peak of your blackpill experience. At this point, you are in highschool and you see and hear chads flattering about fucking stacies and getting their dick sucked. Your female classmates giggle and twirl their hair around while you are having your headphones in your ears, looking at it all. This is a spectacle to you - this is the spectacle of life; and you are a spectator. You are an inessential artifact of the way life goes; you wonder what you did wrong; why did God punish you? At this point in life, you understand it - you are ugly. You become blackpilled; slowly but surely, you know it is over - in fact, it never began.
Your 'friends' start subtly making fun of you for being a loser with no women while they boast about their catches. Every day you wake up and you look in the mirror and you wish you could skin yourself alive. You are butt naked, taking a look at your subhuman frame, your underdeveloped chin, your small dick, your manletism, your shit eyes, bad hair, and the eternal pedo stache. You barely grew in height, you barely look like a human. You start crying. You can't believe this is your life...
You search the internet and you find out, hey, there's still hope! Women love men who are serious, who have great jobs, great earnings, great achievements - not pretty boys, but REAL men. So you start grinding your academics, you start grinding your soul and you get into the good university.
You get in college - in the dorms. This is the point where most ugly men have the strongest desire to kill themselves. Now, every action that was hidden in adolescence is in full display within the student community. You hear people banging, you see people going to clubs, parties, posting snapchat stories of women twerking on their dick. What do you do? You rot in your college room. You look at BP edits on youtube and find out about incels.is. You are officially a ghost, human remains. Nobody talks to you, nobody sees you, nobody notices you. You haunt the hallrooms, you haunt the corridors, you haunt the dorms - you are a dead man walking.
At this point, you get it. There is no cope. There is no hope. Women settle for the uglies after they grinded their shit, subhuman life away. You realize that you will never be loved the way Chad is loved. You realize that this is the way you die - in your room, with your musty underwear having stains of cum, playing shit vidya while watching porn and mindlessly scrolling through internet forums. You sometimes look at the clock and decide to go to sleep. Your parents start bothering you about getting a job, maybe asking you about getting a girlfriend. Meanwhile, you never even held a girl's hand. Truthfully... you never even existed.
And so it ends. From this point on, you are slowly rotting away, awaiting death. You sometimes feel like 'maybe.. maybe things will change', only to see a 6'8 Tyrone telling women that he's a convicted child rapist and he still gets invited to threesomes. You sometimes feel like you are wrong, only to see Meek become a millionaire and fucking models. You sometimes feel like your looksmatch at the corner shop might give you her phone number, only to overhear her talk about getting smashed and getting her guts rearranged by ex boyfriend, while she's in a relationship as it is.
Guys... there is no hope. Nothing changes. Nothing ever changes. You are born to rot and die. You are born to consume and wonder. You are born to witness the spectacle of life. That is all you are here for. And you, all of you, all of us, are doing our roles properly. Good job, never stand up, and don't forget - it is and will always be over.
