The worst thing of the suffering that comes with being an incel is not the suffering, it's how casual it is. If I were to reach out, I'd get told things like "Nahhh, it's normal to be a virgin at 19!" "Don't worry, we all felt ugly sometime." "C'mon, it's normal to be a bit shy." "We all have our insecurities". No. No, you don't get. YOU DON'T GET IT AT ALL. MY FUCKING LIFE IS TORMENT, MY LIFE IS A FUCKING SORROW. I DON'T NEED YOUR INSINCERE ADVICE THAT IS ONLY MEANT TO MAKE *YOU* FEEL GOOD, NOT ME.
Incelibacy is like a death by a thousand cuts. Problems that normies all claim are normal or easily solved. The issue? Well, what are insecurities to normies, IT'S TRUE TO US. MERE FACT, NOT A "oh, I might die alone omg" NO, ITS FACT.
One day, I'll be one with the soil. With my sorrows, my unlovable body, with MuH PeRsOnAlItY. And my grave will be the same size as Chad's.
But Chad, Chad lived. He had a decently paying job, a loving wife, likely kids that will mourn him.
I? What about I? I will die by suicide in a few years, odds are. My mother would be sad for like a month and carry on. I'll rot cold and alone, just as I lived. And if I just man up and don't? I'll die a poor, old, failed man. There is no victory, there is no happiness, there is no point other than the fear of being dead.
I wish incelibacy could kill you. I'm so fucking lonely. I'm SO fucking lonely. I just want a woman by my side, is it TOO MUCH to ask? And when I try, I get told it's "ThE bArE mInImUm"... BITCH, IF IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM, SHOULDN'T I ALSO GET THE BARE MINIMUM? I TRY, I TRY, I TRY, AND YET NOBODY FUCKING LOVES ME. WHY? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU ALL? I KNOW IM UGLY, I KNOW IM SHORT, BUT WHY IS IT ALL YOU SEE?
And people complain by telling me I'm full of self-pity... I am, in fact, you know why? BECAUSE IF I DON'T PITY MYSELF, NOBODY WILL. I used to think that worse than hate is pity. But worse than pity, is not caring. I am in tears. Nobody cares. Nobody at all. Nobody would bat an eye if I died. Nobody will ever like me, let alone love. Nobody hates me, either. Nobody pities me. Nobody.
You think I choose to be miserable? I don't. Nobody does. Nobody.
I cry to the void, and the void doesn't care. I am alone, and loneliness doesn't even hug me. The only things that pass by are the soft, cold on my skin, alone against the wind.
My God, I'm not asking to be a yottachad that bangs foids left and right. I'm not asking to have all my issues solved by a pixie dream girl. I'm not asking for a big-eyed blonde with a perfect body. I am just asking for someone to sleep next to. I can't fucking take it anymore, why do people behave as if my yearn for *basic human connection* is me being entitled? How do people not understand that having nobody to talk to messes with your psyche in ways that are frankly disturbing?
I've done everything.
I'VE DONE EVERYTHING. I tried to be the edgy lonely kid, I tried to be myself, I tried to fake confidence, I tried to be funny, I tried to focus on my studies, I tried to talk to women. Nothing worked. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Why. Not. Me.
It's not like I went out of my way to be this goddamn ugly manlet with a body not even God could love. I didn't choose for it to be this way. But there is nothing I can do...
"Women don't owe you anything," they say.
Well, then who does? Who tf is meant to owe me connection or at least *fucking human decency*?
They claim I don't make the effort, but the thing is, I do. But the more effort I make, the less I want to try. I try to hide by playing videogames and consuming content, but just because I hide from my crippling loneliness doesn't make it go away...
Incelibacy is like a death by a thousand cuts. Problems that normies all claim are normal or easily solved. The issue? Well, what are insecurities to normies, IT'S TRUE TO US. MERE FACT, NOT A "oh, I might die alone omg" NO, ITS FACT.
One day, I'll be one with the soil. With my sorrows, my unlovable body, with MuH PeRsOnAlItY. And my grave will be the same size as Chad's.
But Chad, Chad lived. He had a decently paying job, a loving wife, likely kids that will mourn him.
I? What about I? I will die by suicide in a few years, odds are. My mother would be sad for like a month and carry on. I'll rot cold and alone, just as I lived. And if I just man up and don't? I'll die a poor, old, failed man. There is no victory, there is no happiness, there is no point other than the fear of being dead.
I wish incelibacy could kill you. I'm so fucking lonely. I'm SO fucking lonely. I just want a woman by my side, is it TOO MUCH to ask? And when I try, I get told it's "ThE bArE mInImUm"... BITCH, IF IT'S THE BARE MINIMUM, SHOULDN'T I ALSO GET THE BARE MINIMUM? I TRY, I TRY, I TRY, AND YET NOBODY FUCKING LOVES ME. WHY? WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME, WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU ALL? I KNOW IM UGLY, I KNOW IM SHORT, BUT WHY IS IT ALL YOU SEE?
And people complain by telling me I'm full of self-pity... I am, in fact, you know why? BECAUSE IF I DON'T PITY MYSELF, NOBODY WILL. I used to think that worse than hate is pity. But worse than pity, is not caring. I am in tears. Nobody cares. Nobody at all. Nobody would bat an eye if I died. Nobody will ever like me, let alone love. Nobody hates me, either. Nobody pities me. Nobody.
You think I choose to be miserable? I don't. Nobody does. Nobody.
I cry to the void, and the void doesn't care. I am alone, and loneliness doesn't even hug me. The only things that pass by are the soft, cold on my skin, alone against the wind.
My God, I'm not asking to be a yottachad that bangs foids left and right. I'm not asking to have all my issues solved by a pixie dream girl. I'm not asking for a big-eyed blonde with a perfect body. I am just asking for someone to sleep next to. I can't fucking take it anymore, why do people behave as if my yearn for *basic human connection* is me being entitled? How do people not understand that having nobody to talk to messes with your psyche in ways that are frankly disturbing?
I've done everything.
I'VE DONE EVERYTHING. I tried to be the edgy lonely kid, I tried to be myself, I tried to fake confidence, I tried to be funny, I tried to focus on my studies, I tried to talk to women. Nothing worked. Nothing. Nothing at all.
Why. Not. Me.
It's not like I went out of my way to be this goddamn ugly manlet with a body not even God could love. I didn't choose for it to be this way. But there is nothing I can do...
"Women don't owe you anything," they say.
Well, then who does? Who tf is meant to owe me connection or at least *fucking human decency*?
They claim I don't make the effort, but the thing is, I do. But the more effort I make, the less I want to try. I try to hide by playing videogames and consuming content, but just because I hide from my crippling loneliness doesn't make it go away...
