M
MajorThomas666
It's all so tiresome
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- Joined
- Nov 26, 2025
- Posts
- 2,805
- Online time
- 21h 4m
The worst feeling on earth is waking up to a passionate, affectionate dream you thought was real.
I don't have lucid dreams often, but when I do my brain always seems to want to create a world in which the love of the opposite sex is possible and, indeed, worth living for. If I were to remain in a lucid coma, life would be grand and love would be possible.
My HS oneitis, a good friend of mine due to my egregious jestermaxxing, who I held hands with one time in middle school (mentioned in a prior, largely cloudy recollection of a past encounter) before the tallest fuck jock sabotaged my efforts of ever kissing a girl, became my girlfriend for three days in Shangri-La.
Consider that I'm 5'5 and in HS, the 1000 student body consisted of 530 white girls, 5 Asian girls and 460 white men, many tall Anglos, 1 black guy and 5 Asian men, all of whom were taller than me.
My oneitis and I remained friends due to my jestermaxxing all through HS. I was employed as the funny and witty clown by her popular friends and their boyfriends.
I think if I had stopped jestermaxxing I might have dated her, but that's an outlandish thought. I'd have been bullied by jocks for my height and made a pariah. That's all short guys can get for socialization. Jestermaxxing or nothing.
Even then, I felt that there was chemistry, but for her it was consolation and brotherly love; all the things I didn't want but became anyway. One time I said she looked beautiful in biology class and that amounted to nothing. I bet nobody ever said that to her. Definitely not the jock she yearned for. The only other time I saw her after HS IRL was a glimpse at a party my taller friends reluctantly brought me to and I was greeted with the touch of a former HS jock who shuffled my hair like a father to a child. This was the only time I've ever acted out on my rage, and shoved him back and said, "don't do that faggot." For whatever reason, we weren't welcome after that so we sat on porch and smoked weed which I got terrible anxiety from. Many of times I've overheard my friends say, "why do we even bring him, we should've brought somebody else," which always made me feel like utter diarrhea.
I recently watched a reality show with my older sister and noticed that the shorter HTN guy in the prescense of four 6'+ muscular men had no chance dating let alone fucking any of the women, who were 5'4 and under. He kept saying, "aghhhhh, why am I still single, just give me a girl with a big ass..."
You're 5'6, that's why. You might tower over all the 4'11 girls in a room with no other guys, and maybe they'll find you semi-attractive, but once a taller guy or average height guy steps in, you're a globulous mass to be discarded.
You have to be attractive and statusmaxxed to even be thought of as datable if you're short (beach whales included).
There was one scene where all six girls were grinding the four taller, handsome guys semi naked on a pedestal, and getting boners, and the shorter guy had to sit there in agony watching the devious occurrence. Two of the guys had GF's too.
The funny thing was that the girl that fucked all the guys and consoled her problems to the short guy happened to be the shortest, at 4'10.
So that made me feel shitty.
Then, the next day, I have this lucid dream of spending a few days with my HS oneitis.
Apparently she has had three boyfriends since she stopped talking to me. After summer graduation, I remember messaging her that I really missed her and we should hang out sometime. She never talked or messaged me again.
I think she thought I was a loser and not going anywhere in life, or she just wanted to hangout with the more popular guys, or my taller friends, one of whom she screwed. I always had this inkling that I was just different, perhaps how I said things, maybe how I moved me limbs, I could never figure out why I could never get a date and was always friend zoned, and I believe it was partially because I was always in the presence of taller friends.
Anyway, The Dream. It was lovely. I met her at my local grocery store and asked how she was. We later hang out and she tells me she's single. I ask about the HS jock she took to the dance, and she said he was married with kids. Backstory: I asked her to the dance a day after she said yes to the jock. I never went to a HS dance.
I believe she's around 28 now and childless. All her prior boyfriends were taller than me and it didn't help to hear from my taller friends her favorite positions. Either she was passed around like candy or secrets get out.
The dream was heaven. Holding hands, kissing, going to cinema, eating out, snuggling. All these peaceful, soothing, arcadian, genial, blissful, nirvanic, felicific, exhilarating, pleasurable, heavenly, butterfly-like euphoric feelings are what is felt IRL — feelings we are deprived of everyday while Chad, HTN gets everything.
And notice I never had sex with her. My brain simply created a world in which the presence of a companion was enough for me to feel everything I never felt before.
Sex is overrated. Yeah. Because having a companion and desiring her, feeling reciprocal love, is better.
Maybe I should call her.
But then I remember past HS guys calling my mom and sounding like crazed psychopaths.
High school is long over, at least I get to look forward to old age.
I don't have lucid dreams often, but when I do my brain always seems to want to create a world in which the love of the opposite sex is possible and, indeed, worth living for. If I were to remain in a lucid coma, life would be grand and love would be possible.
My HS oneitis, a good friend of mine due to my egregious jestermaxxing, who I held hands with one time in middle school (mentioned in a prior, largely cloudy recollection of a past encounter) before the tallest fuck jock sabotaged my efforts of ever kissing a girl, became my girlfriend for three days in Shangri-La.
Consider that I'm 5'5 and in HS, the 1000 student body consisted of 530 white girls, 5 Asian girls and 460 white men, many tall Anglos, 1 black guy and 5 Asian men, all of whom were taller than me.
My oneitis and I remained friends due to my jestermaxxing all through HS. I was employed as the funny and witty clown by her popular friends and their boyfriends.
I think if I had stopped jestermaxxing I might have dated her, but that's an outlandish thought. I'd have been bullied by jocks for my height and made a pariah. That's all short guys can get for socialization. Jestermaxxing or nothing.
Even then, I felt that there was chemistry, but for her it was consolation and brotherly love; all the things I didn't want but became anyway. One time I said she looked beautiful in biology class and that amounted to nothing. I bet nobody ever said that to her. Definitely not the jock she yearned for. The only other time I saw her after HS IRL was a glimpse at a party my taller friends reluctantly brought me to and I was greeted with the touch of a former HS jock who shuffled my hair like a father to a child. This was the only time I've ever acted out on my rage, and shoved him back and said, "don't do that faggot." For whatever reason, we weren't welcome after that so we sat on porch and smoked weed which I got terrible anxiety from. Many of times I've overheard my friends say, "why do we even bring him, we should've brought somebody else," which always made me feel like utter diarrhea.
I recently watched a reality show with my older sister and noticed that the shorter HTN guy in the prescense of four 6'+ muscular men had no chance dating let alone fucking any of the women, who were 5'4 and under. He kept saying, "aghhhhh, why am I still single, just give me a girl with a big ass..."
You're 5'6, that's why. You might tower over all the 4'11 girls in a room with no other guys, and maybe they'll find you semi-attractive, but once a taller guy or average height guy steps in, you're a globulous mass to be discarded.
You have to be attractive and statusmaxxed to even be thought of as datable if you're short (beach whales included).
There was one scene where all six girls were grinding the four taller, handsome guys semi naked on a pedestal, and getting boners, and the shorter guy had to sit there in agony watching the devious occurrence. Two of the guys had GF's too.
The funny thing was that the girl that fucked all the guys and consoled her problems to the short guy happened to be the shortest, at 4'10.
So that made me feel shitty.
Then, the next day, I have this lucid dream of spending a few days with my HS oneitis.
Apparently she has had three boyfriends since she stopped talking to me. After summer graduation, I remember messaging her that I really missed her and we should hang out sometime. She never talked or messaged me again.
I think she thought I was a loser and not going anywhere in life, or she just wanted to hangout with the more popular guys, or my taller friends, one of whom she screwed. I always had this inkling that I was just different, perhaps how I said things, maybe how I moved me limbs, I could never figure out why I could never get a date and was always friend zoned, and I believe it was partially because I was always in the presence of taller friends.
Anyway, The Dream. It was lovely. I met her at my local grocery store and asked how she was. We later hang out and she tells me she's single. I ask about the HS jock she took to the dance, and she said he was married with kids. Backstory: I asked her to the dance a day after she said yes to the jock. I never went to a HS dance.
I believe she's around 28 now and childless. All her prior boyfriends were taller than me and it didn't help to hear from my taller friends her favorite positions. Either she was passed around like candy or secrets get out.
The dream was heaven. Holding hands, kissing, going to cinema, eating out, snuggling. All these peaceful, soothing, arcadian, genial, blissful, nirvanic, felicific, exhilarating, pleasurable, heavenly, butterfly-like euphoric feelings are what is felt IRL — feelings we are deprived of everyday while Chad, HTN gets everything.
And notice I never had sex with her. My brain simply created a world in which the presence of a companion was enough for me to feel everything I never felt before.
Sex is overrated. Yeah. Because having a companion and desiring her, feeling reciprocal love, is better.
Maybe I should call her.
But then I remember past HS guys calling my mom and sounding like crazed psychopaths.
High school is long over, at least I get to look forward to old age.
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