Imagine someone's thrown into a dungeon. After a long time he's got long, unkempt hair, sores all over his body, he's starving, etc.
Should he feel ashamed for not taking care of himself? Obviously that doesn't make sense. He doesn't have any control over it. He's a victim of circumstance.
If Inceldom is really something that can't be changed, it's not my fault, and there's no point feeling ashamed about it. I am a victim of circumstance like the dungeon prisoner. If inceldom can be fixed, then it's a temporary burden that I'll have to bear until my effortmaxxing solves it. Either way being an incel doesn't make me less of a man, or less of a human.
Our dungeon prisoner understands that his circumstances are bleak like a nightmare. His condition is suffering, his entire life is spent deprived of the normal things people outside the bars of his cage are taking for granted. He gazes into the outside world with desperate longing.
But he isn't just a "prisoner", he's a man. Rage, pity, and self-destructive impulses don't help. Maybe he can come to some kind of peace, some kind of understanding that will make his state bearable. Acceptance.
But you can bet your fucking ass the minute he notices that one of the bricks in his cell are loose, he'll be scrambling as fast as he can to dig an escape tunnel: maybe he'll make it outside. So what if the attempt doesn't work, so what if the tunnel collapses on him, so what if it takes a year of digging before the tunnel gets far enough. Any amount of effort, any amount of indignity is worth the chance of making it out. Because the alternative is staying a prisoner.
I hope everyone reading this has a good weekend. God bless all my fellow incels: I can think of no other men who need it more.
