Emba
Jarjar Sphinx
★★★★★
- Joined
- May 19, 2019
- Posts
- 59,760
A few years back (late 40's) I cried every once in a while saying to myself, "No one gives a shit about me." While thinking about that... It was like a loop.
It wasn't about being rejected by women. It was about being rejected by everyone.
I thought it was my fault for not "reaching out" more. And for being so isolated. I never went to visit people. Never hung out at social hotspots.... For being a jerk.
Slowly I remembered that I DID TRY. I did seek friends! I reached out and kept getting my hand bit.
Over and over.
I visited them. They never visited me. I went out of my way to see them. Yet they would drive past my house, never stopping.
I hung out with the other old dudes. And was ignored! Talked around. And treated like a ghost.
That's when I realized I was a jerk in the past to prevent rejection. Because every time I tried I failed to make friends. It was a preventive survival tactic. I knew they were brainwashed normie scum!
It took a while but I stopped crying. I had tried, and failed. I did my best.
I stopped crying because I know they simply cannot give a shit! They are too busy being (brainwashed! Too locked into their meme boxes!
It's not even that I'm that ugly. I'm just not good looking. I have nothing they want or need. They see me as a empty ATM. A dented can on the self that may be contaminated!
I'm finally done with the five stages of grief boyos.
It's my fault for not being born better looking. As if I had the choice!
But thanks to the blackpill. I now know why it never began. The beginning was the end. I'm just glad I never played the shitty game of life and cucked out!
I could have been a trapped slave! Hating every moment of my slavery. Being whipped everyday by a hambeast!
Instead, yeah I'm alone. Very alone. But I'm free to think! I am still sad about it. But I know that I'm not alone in being alone. I did my best.
Even if the internet died tomorrow I would know of other Incels out there irl coping too.
Does crying over my fate make me a sissy? No. It makes me an honest human.
(Fuck you if you think it's funny.)
It wasn't about being rejected by women. It was about being rejected by everyone.
I thought it was my fault for not "reaching out" more. And for being so isolated. I never went to visit people. Never hung out at social hotspots.... For being a jerk.
Slowly I remembered that I DID TRY. I did seek friends! I reached out and kept getting my hand bit.
Over and over.
I visited them. They never visited me. I went out of my way to see them. Yet they would drive past my house, never stopping.
I hung out with the other old dudes. And was ignored! Talked around. And treated like a ghost.
That's when I realized I was a jerk in the past to prevent rejection. Because every time I tried I failed to make friends. It was a preventive survival tactic. I knew they were brainwashed normie scum!
It took a while but I stopped crying. I had tried, and failed. I did my best.
I stopped crying because I know they simply cannot give a shit! They are too busy being (brainwashed! Too locked into their meme boxes!
It's not even that I'm that ugly. I'm just not good looking. I have nothing they want or need. They see me as a empty ATM. A dented can on the self that may be contaminated!
I'm finally done with the five stages of grief boyos.
It's my fault for not being born better looking. As if I had the choice!
But thanks to the blackpill. I now know why it never began. The beginning was the end. I'm just glad I never played the shitty game of life and cucked out!
I could have been a trapped slave! Hating every moment of my slavery. Being whipped everyday by a hambeast!
Instead, yeah I'm alone. Very alone. But I'm free to think! I am still sad about it. But I know that I'm not alone in being alone. I did my best.
Even if the internet died tomorrow I would know of other Incels out there irl coping too.
Does crying over my fate make me a sissy? No. It makes me an honest human.
(Fuck you if you think it's funny.)