My top two biggest copes are:
- Maladaptive daydreaming
- Jerking off
These copes, of course, both intersect with one another, meaning that I spend
hours a day either cooming or otherwise with sex on my mind. I’m a literal maniac.
It’s painful because my subhuman physical stats and broken mind mean I could never get sex, yet I just can’t fucking stop thinking about it. Sometimes I’ll catch myself pondering on this cursed condition at length, and my mind
always comes back to the genetics and shitty environment that spawn-killed me at birth, plus the parents who gave them to me.
My father’s parents were cousins, and he’s a comically unattractive, schizophrenic “man” who got an arranged marriage at close to 30. For his entire life, he has been completely unconcerned with his sexual attractiveness.
He never cared for masculine virtues in general to be quite honest. He acts like more of a foid than my mom does, and the only time he ever told me to “be a man” growing up was in middle and high school, when I began to care about my appearance and presentation (which he thought was unnecessary). Yes, according to this fucking poo-brained Hindoo roach, “manliness” means being a filthy, slovenly, uncouth,
REPULSIVE fucking shitskin who doesn’t give a rat’s ass how he comes across to other people. Strength doesn’t matter, neither does risk-taking, just how gross you look, act, and smell.
This isn’t an uncommon attitude among curries either, which is unsurprising given we’re a “people” that only subsisted this long due to arranged marriage. Curry existence is in and of itself anti-attraction. I’m not even convinced my father’s had sex at all; he could have very well nutted in a syringe and had my mom inject it. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – I’m not the first incel in my bloodline, but merely the latest in generations upon generations of them. The last male in my paternal lineage to ever experience genuine desire from a woman was probably a white Andronovan man from the Bronze Age.
My mother is hardly different, and not only are my parents asexual, but they were also absurdly
anti-sexual throughout my upbringing. Ever since I reached the age of gaining a sex drive, my parents became insanely paranoid about me consuming porn, and went to batshit crazy lengths to try and crack down on it. This included monitoring my internet history on all devices, and frequently refusing to let me use a screen in a room they weren’t also in, so that they could periodically check what I was watching.
At one point when I was 13 (and had finally moved into a room of my own), my mom barged into my room to find me jerking off and nearly broke down crying. She literally said something along the lines of “
SAAR THA VHARST THEENG EEN MAI LAIF IS HOUW U TARNED OUT!!” This was just a few months after her own mom died btw. Everything Nixon said in this rant about curries is
absolutely fucking true, and
DOUBLY so for my parents:
It’s just asinine on so many levels that I was born to such sexless, sex-hating freaks of parents and ancestors yet ended up how I did. Nothing in my life makes sense; I truly do live a Looney Tunes-tier existence
