I've been a gymcel for 13 years.
My thin wrists, my short stature and my curry-like breed, and narrow shoulders, prevented me from reaching a reasonable shape, even though I struggled absurdly in training, following a very strict diet with a lot of protein, carbohydrates and nutrients (I supplement 14 nutrients, between vitamins and minerals), and sleeping 8 hours a day (I go to bed at 10 pm). All the men in the gym are bigger than I am, and none of them do the insane exercises I do. Several have already called me a monster because of the level of training I apply to myself, and have already tried to copy me without success. Still, they are bigger and stronger than me.
But my fine wrists, which prevent me from having expressive muscle gains, are far from being the totality of my problems.
Height 5'5, an indisputable manlet. I do not know any man who is not taller than I am, and even women are rarely lower. A leg stretching surgery would not solve my problem because I need a lot more height than the surgery could provide. And I would have another problem: I could never practice bodybuilding in my legs, which would make me deeply depressed (even more so than I am now).
Where I live, there are a lot of white men, and I resemble the currys. You know that whites have a huge advantage over any other race, and here in Brazil, it's no different. Even curry girls prefer white guys, and I know that because I've tried to invest in curry girls without success.
My penis is 13 cm. My hair is falling, and the back of my head has lost more than half its hair. My voice is very annoying, and I know this because strangers heard my voice over the internet and warned me of it.
I can not say I'm a complete piece of shit because I have my own apartment and I live alone, I have a car and a reasonable job, I have no debt and I have accumulated an interesting financial reserve. But all my brothers have a more profitable job, better cars, and everyone is married. That's enough to know how my parents see me.
Some might say that I'm not so bad and that it would be enough to try and get close to the girls and try some footsteps, that at some point I could get a date. It so happens that I still have one last problem I did not mention.
My personality is asperger. I have a hard time getting close to people, I do not have friends and everyone thinks it's strange what I say. Add to that the years of bullying I suffered at school, and uncomfortable situations I went through in the church I attended for a few years before becoming an atheist.
And foolish who thinks I say things like conspiracy theories, games and nerd world. I do not even believe in conspiracy theories, I do not like anime, manga, games and anything nerdy.
Also deceived are those who think that I am a hater of chads and stacys, or that I am a misogynist who just wants women to die, and that is why I am alone. Even being rejected, I do not feel any hatred for them. The only thing I feel more and more, every rejection, every deviation from looking, is indifference. They say that what has no solution solved is. If absolutely nothing I do is going to bring the girls together, then it's useless to worry about it, and I do not want to think about it any more. And I try not to think.
Exposing my whole situation, the question I ask is: How much effort should I make? Should I undergo high-altitude surgery that would not solve my problem and create another? Should I do a series of plastic surgeries, which cost a fortune here in Brazil and whose results are not guaranteed? What should I do with my voice, with my small dick, my narrow shoulders, my baldness?
And with the asperger? Should I find a psychologist? Yeah, I've tried that. The bastards tried to convince me that I was not trying hard enough to get friends and a girlfriend, they prescribed me some medicines I took for a while, and then I threw it all away, because I realized that it was all useless, and I went back to stake.
Finally, suicide. It would make a lot of sense for me to think about suicide and give up everything if life were to revolve around women, and it would be impossible to get pleasure and satisfaction from other things. But I do not believe it. Women are just one aspect that can add something, or not. If they're there, okay. If they are not, it does not matter. Just like it does not matter to have a ferrari in the garage, or a popular car, or anything else. In the end, happiness comes down to how much dopamine your brain can release, and it is possible to release dopamine into simple things that do not involve women. So, at least for me, suicide does not make sense.
My thin wrists, my short stature and my curry-like breed, and narrow shoulders, prevented me from reaching a reasonable shape, even though I struggled absurdly in training, following a very strict diet with a lot of protein, carbohydrates and nutrients (I supplement 14 nutrients, between vitamins and minerals), and sleeping 8 hours a day (I go to bed at 10 pm). All the men in the gym are bigger than I am, and none of them do the insane exercises I do. Several have already called me a monster because of the level of training I apply to myself, and have already tried to copy me without success. Still, they are bigger and stronger than me.
But my fine wrists, which prevent me from having expressive muscle gains, are far from being the totality of my problems.
Height 5'5, an indisputable manlet. I do not know any man who is not taller than I am, and even women are rarely lower. A leg stretching surgery would not solve my problem because I need a lot more height than the surgery could provide. And I would have another problem: I could never practice bodybuilding in my legs, which would make me deeply depressed (even more so than I am now).
Where I live, there are a lot of white men, and I resemble the currys. You know that whites have a huge advantage over any other race, and here in Brazil, it's no different. Even curry girls prefer white guys, and I know that because I've tried to invest in curry girls without success.
My penis is 13 cm. My hair is falling, and the back of my head has lost more than half its hair. My voice is very annoying, and I know this because strangers heard my voice over the internet and warned me of it.
I can not say I'm a complete piece of shit because I have my own apartment and I live alone, I have a car and a reasonable job, I have no debt and I have accumulated an interesting financial reserve. But all my brothers have a more profitable job, better cars, and everyone is married. That's enough to know how my parents see me.
Some might say that I'm not so bad and that it would be enough to try and get close to the girls and try some footsteps, that at some point I could get a date. It so happens that I still have one last problem I did not mention.
My personality is asperger. I have a hard time getting close to people, I do not have friends and everyone thinks it's strange what I say. Add to that the years of bullying I suffered at school, and uncomfortable situations I went through in the church I attended for a few years before becoming an atheist.
And foolish who thinks I say things like conspiracy theories, games and nerd world. I do not even believe in conspiracy theories, I do not like anime, manga, games and anything nerdy.
Also deceived are those who think that I am a hater of chads and stacys, or that I am a misogynist who just wants women to die, and that is why I am alone. Even being rejected, I do not feel any hatred for them. The only thing I feel more and more, every rejection, every deviation from looking, is indifference. They say that what has no solution solved is. If absolutely nothing I do is going to bring the girls together, then it's useless to worry about it, and I do not want to think about it any more. And I try not to think.
Exposing my whole situation, the question I ask is: How much effort should I make? Should I undergo high-altitude surgery that would not solve my problem and create another? Should I do a series of plastic surgeries, which cost a fortune here in Brazil and whose results are not guaranteed? What should I do with my voice, with my small dick, my narrow shoulders, my baldness?
And with the asperger? Should I find a psychologist? Yeah, I've tried that. The bastards tried to convince me that I was not trying hard enough to get friends and a girlfriend, they prescribed me some medicines I took for a while, and then I threw it all away, because I realized that it was all useless, and I went back to stake.
Finally, suicide. It would make a lot of sense for me to think about suicide and give up everything if life were to revolve around women, and it would be impossible to get pleasure and satisfaction from other things. But I do not believe it. Women are just one aspect that can add something, or not. If they're there, okay. If they are not, it does not matter. Just like it does not matter to have a ferrari in the garage, or a popular car, or anything else. In the end, happiness comes down to how much dopamine your brain can release, and it is possible to release dopamine into simple things that do not involve women. So, at least for me, suicide does not make sense.
