IF YOURE NOT A KV CLOSE THE THREAD NOW AND MOVE ON
even among "incels" Im the most truecel of them all. If youre a legitimate KV and 20+ tell me, how do I cope?
Well, at the ripe old age of twenty-one years old, you may not be the truest of all the truecels here. Not to denigrate the authenticity of your pain, of course. Though thirty-eight now, I was once twenty-one as well. Though, admittedly, I can no longer remember what that age was like. I vaguely recall getting quite drunk; I also recall doing so alone. I suppose some things never change.
How does a thirty-eight year old virgin cope? How does he trick himself into living one more day? Very good question.
Liquor becomes your ally but you need to employ its assistance very carefully. Drink too much and you'll lose that precious inhibition preventing you from looking at the monster lurking behind the mirror. You'd be surprised how easily all of the caution you've cultivated through the years that has taught you to never look directly at your own reflection each morning while you shave and brush your teeth can be lost after one too many drinks. It's a terrifying thing for a truly ugly man to confront his own repulsiveness unmitigated.
So you don't want to drink too much. But you also don't want to become merely tipsy. Follow that route and you surrender yourself to silly fantasies. Closing your eyes, you'll dream of the things you'll never have. There will be visions of being held, of being desired. It's amazing how real it can feel; you can almost imagine what it's like to be an actual human being, one of Nature's children rather than one of her abortions. And then the liquor fumes dissipate and the sun rises, leaving you alone with no other companion save for the disgusting thing leering back at you from the mirror.
So you slowly learn to drink enough to render your vision blurry, unable to look at either yourself or others. You save yourself from the tease of Paradise you'll never have by accomplishing the latter and protect yourself from the inevitability of the Perdition waiting you by doing the former. While you still draw breath, if you're exceptionally careful, you may just win yourself something like Purgatory. It's far from Paradise, to be sure, but it's infinitely preferable to the Hell that serves every true monster's proper lot.
So you employ your liquor, your drugs, and all of your other petty sorceries. You attain a brief respite from your inevitable damnation with a clever bit of slight of hand. You know the day will come when the illusion inevitably fails you, when you can't trick yourself any longer.
But that's a horror reserved for another day, or maybe the day after that. Today you keep yourself suspended in dreary, albeit gentle, Limbo and pretend as long as the liquor continues to flow that maybe, just maybe, you'll wake to find yourself there again tomorrow.
