Be warned, this is undistilled suicide fuel in its highest concentration.
You can read this story for free but it is not free.
You will either pay with your mental health or your life.
It may claim lives, but truth be told.
Here is the story.
Weeks have passed since you started studying.
You are new in town.
You were excited.
You remember how you stood at the train station when you first arrived.
You fled your home town.
To wash off bad memories.
Expected life to get different.
A new era.
It was bitter.
You are still alone.
You did not find friends.
And you realize.
You understand:
You are involuntary celibate, a virgin against will.
You are not tall.
You are not good looking.
You wear glasses.
You are balding.
In your early 20s.
You are shy.
You might as well be invisible.
There is no indication other people even notice you.
But you know they do.
They always do.
They judge. They rate.
And you do not pass the threshold.
You are not interesting.
Not as a friend.
And not as a lover.
Your existence is tolerated.
Because it's a teaching room in university.
They can't just not let you in for being ugly.
Not in a public space.
But in private.
Friends groups.
House parties.
Standing in a circle while waiting for the professor.
Here they can.
And they do.
One evening,
you are granted a wish.
For one day.
The "Why" does not matter.
The circumstances do not matter.
It never does.
What matters is what is.
And you are granted a wish.
You choose justice.
You choose to look like you would if your body was mirrored on an attractiveness scale.
For one day, you get to experience what it means to be Chad.
Your body transfoms.
You are tall.
190cm/6'3.
You're muscular,
strong arms,
perfect frame.
Your hair is dense and full,
light brown.
Deep blue eyes.
You have a deep,
pleasant voice.
You are smart.
You are not shy.
Because shyness
is not warranted
with these looks.
Your face is flawless, aggressive bones are shaping your looks.
If you looked like this during your teenage days, no one would have looked better.
Reparations for your actual teenage days:
No one was as unattractive as you. No one.
You are as extreme as before.
You were extremely unattractive.
But now
extremly handsome.
You are in university, you walk along the corridor.
You enter the room, you're a little late.
Because
you looked at yourself in the mirror.
For some time.
30 heads turn a bit,
look at you.
Just a second.
That's all they need
to see you...
...to judge you.
15 female thoughts,
all identical.
>"He's attractive!"
And this is you.
You are chad, for one day.
You can feel
what happened in this second.
Is this the new magic?
You take your seat, you listen.
It is technical, but you understand everything.
The lesson ends, it's time for a break.
You are new in the city, you don't know anyone.
You didn't walk ten steps and you hear light steps directly behind you.
Reduce your speed,
just a little,
tilt your head to the right.
You stare into green eyes.
You say nothing.
But she does.
>"h-Hi!"
She obviously is a little surprised. But pleasantly. It's easier to talk to someone who's already looking at you.
He just threw her off the track, she wanted to speak half a second later.
This light brown hair.
These deep blue eyes.
This attentive look.
>"You're new here? I have never seen you before."
You answer.
She asks.
You tell her your name.
You make a small joke about the building.
Maybe the architect should have constructed corn mazes.
She laughts. Oh yeah.
She offers to show you the building later on.
>"Oh, really? You'd do that? It's quite big."
She laughs again and her hair flows in the spring light as you walk past a window.
You can smell her perfume.
>"I can hadle it! Sure, pinky promise!"
You arrive at the cafeteria.
You get your food, walk to a table.
You weren't here before.
You had no friends.
You only ate at home.
But today...
Other people join you, her friends,
male and female.
They introduce themselves.
They talk.
You talk.
They invite you to a party this weekend.
Tomorrow they'll meet in the campus park.
Playing cards. Music. Fun. You're welcome.
Break's over.
Two more hours.
That's it for today.
You get up.
She's already standing by your side.
Again you walk down the corridor.
But not the same direction as the others.
They are leaving.
You are just getting started.
She promised to show you something.
It's early spring.
It's a nice day.
You two are alone now in this building wing.
All other people have already left.
This feeling...
you are part of something.
This is not supposed to be happening.
You are supposed to take the bus
home.
Eat.
Learn.
Sleep.
But now...
you are part of something.
You can feel it.
You're not a passive figure in life.
Not anymore.
You walk along the orphaned corridors.
The corridor ends.
It doesn't go any further, but there is a large window from which you look down on the campus park.
She stands right beside you.
She. How?
For a moment, neither of you speak.
Then you hear her voice.
Gentle, feminine.
Soft.
>"Hey, Anon..."
She comes closer...
... the window... the low sun... the light rays... her hair, perfume. The atmosphere.
You and her alone in the orphaned corridor, a secluded corner.
... and as she stands on her tiptoes you hug her
and your lips meet.
You close your eyes.
The rays of the afternoon sun paint wonderful patterns on the wall.
On your face.
Her face.
Both of you.
Caressing you.
This moment exists just for you.
You're not a passive figure in life.
Not anymore.
...
Twelve hours later, you are back in your dorm.
This is life?
How did I even survive this long?
I found friends.
My entire life, I did not have a single friend.
My entire life, I rotted in my room.
Staring on a phone screen...
I was a loser. A loner. Ignored and trampled upon. A freak.
But now...
I found friends.
And a girlfriend...
We talked. We walked.
We kissed...
We...
Her soft tender body...
This is what people experience...
People want me. They like me.
This is life.
And if you don't experience this, you are not alive.
This much now he knew.
She reluctantly accepted that he was tired. Had things to do. Needed some time for himself.
But tomorrow they would see each other again.
He had to promise that.
You sit down.
You remember...
You and her, you did not take the bus.
You walked the entire way, her eyes were shining, fixated on you.
And with every laugh, every syllable she spoke, the scars deep within him healed.
His miserable existence was healing.
All that he missed...
all that he longed for...
He actually got it. He did not even try.
It just happened.
It just happened.
But... you were granted one day.
Time is running out.
He looks at his smart phone.
Several unread messages.
From several people. His new friends.
But he has to check time. Time has come.
He gets up, to the bathroom.
The mirror.
And then it happens. It starts slowly.
Sinking into the ground. But this is not what's happening. He gets shorter.
Not just a bit. Quite a lot. 5 inches. 10 inches.
His frame... there is no frame anymore.
His eyes... everything is blurry. He grabs his glasses.
They are brown.
His nose, his beautiful nose. His ugly nose.
His skin looks neglected. Unkempt.
His face, unrecognizable.
Above the temples... the back of the head.
Too much. Too much to cope. Too much to comprehend.
Hairs fall, like shooting stars.
But they do not glow.
They fade.
And so does he.
Going to the cafeteria? It was so effortlessly...
But without friends, all alone...
Talking, simply talking to others...
Who would want to listen now?
The verdict of over two decades could not be any clearer.
The party in the park...
he would be alone
alone in his room
staring at his phone screen
but without messages.
For years
decades...
How does this end?
And it ends right here.
His soul scatters.
Just as human bones cannot withstand the force of a metal block weighting a hundred tons, his soul cannot withstand what the mirror shows.
Cannot withstand the realization what he gained.
What he lost.
One day... so much more worth than his entire life.
Life? ...is this life?
It isn't.
He cannot recover from this.
He cannot stay here.
He gets up and flees.
To the same place where he arrived.
He does not flee society.
Not in this sense.
He actually enjoyed it.
Talking to people.
Hearing his voice.
Seeing how they listen.
Her company.
He does not hate it.
He hates that he's missing it.
And this justifies hatred
because he did what he could.
It wasn't enough.
Will never be enough.
It was only enough -
he didn't even have to try -
when he wasn't himself.
He didn't even have to try...
Is this a loving society?
That only loves those who don't need it?
You cannot flee your body.
Can you?
A hundred tons of steel get into motion, as effortlessly gliding towards him on tracks
as he glided into other's life.
Not just life.
When he was tall.
Attactive.
Not anymore.
His body reunites with his soul.
###
change the train
and the station
with ammo, uni and a gun
if you want to
###
You think this wouldn't ever have happened to you anyway?
You think it is far too unlikely to be in the top 3% of attractiveness?
But objective attractiveness is a symmnetric probability distribution.
It is equally likely to be in the lowest lows and highest heights.
The odds to be a truecel and to be a ultrachad are equal.
Your conscience could have entered the emerging cells of an ultrachad-embryo.
It was a coin toss and you got the wrong side.
It was equally likely.
If the coin had fallen differently, then all what I described would have happened to you in one iteration or another.
This story is not a far fetched fantasy.
Somewhere in a university an attractive man is entering a room full of unknown people and inevitably things will play out as they always do.
It is reality.
It is happening right now.
For those whose coins fell differently.
Just not for you.
Every time you see a woman you like, every time, every waking hour, in every social situation, remember:
It was a coin toss. She could have been yours.
You could have been attractive enough.
You were so, so close...
But then, one last time, sluggishly and slowly, the coin rotated around its own axis.
And then it fell.
It was the wrong side.
Remember this. Every time. For the rest of your life.
You can read this story for free but it is not free.
You will either pay with your mental health or your life.
It may claim lives, but truth be told.
Here is the story.
Weeks have passed since you started studying.
You are new in town.
You were excited.
You remember how you stood at the train station when you first arrived.
You fled your home town.
To wash off bad memories.
Expected life to get different.
A new era.
It was bitter.
You are still alone.
You did not find friends.
And you realize.
You understand:
You are involuntary celibate, a virgin against will.
You are not tall.
You are not good looking.
You wear glasses.
You are balding.
In your early 20s.
You are shy.
You might as well be invisible.
There is no indication other people even notice you.
But you know they do.
They always do.
They judge. They rate.
And you do not pass the threshold.
You are not interesting.
Not as a friend.
And not as a lover.
Your existence is tolerated.
Because it's a teaching room in university.
They can't just not let you in for being ugly.
Not in a public space.
But in private.
Friends groups.
House parties.
Standing in a circle while waiting for the professor.
Here they can.
And they do.
One evening,
you are granted a wish.
For one day.
The "Why" does not matter.
The circumstances do not matter.
It never does.
What matters is what is.
And you are granted a wish.
You choose justice.
You choose to look like you would if your body was mirrored on an attractiveness scale.
For one day, you get to experience what it means to be Chad.
Your body transfoms.
You are tall.
190cm/6'3.
You're muscular,
strong arms,
perfect frame.
Your hair is dense and full,
light brown.
Deep blue eyes.
You have a deep,
pleasant voice.
You are smart.
You are not shy.
Because shyness
is not warranted
with these looks.
Your face is flawless, aggressive bones are shaping your looks.
If you looked like this during your teenage days, no one would have looked better.
Reparations for your actual teenage days:
No one was as unattractive as you. No one.
You are as extreme as before.
You were extremely unattractive.
But now
extremly handsome.
You are in university, you walk along the corridor.
You enter the room, you're a little late.
Because
you looked at yourself in the mirror.
For some time.
30 heads turn a bit,
look at you.
Just a second.
That's all they need
to see you...
...to judge you.
15 female thoughts,
all identical.
>"He's attractive!"
And this is you.
You are chad, for one day.
You can feel
what happened in this second.
Is this the new magic?
You take your seat, you listen.
It is technical, but you understand everything.
The lesson ends, it's time for a break.
You are new in the city, you don't know anyone.
You didn't walk ten steps and you hear light steps directly behind you.
Reduce your speed,
just a little,
tilt your head to the right.
You stare into green eyes.
You say nothing.
But she does.
>"h-Hi!"
She obviously is a little surprised. But pleasantly. It's easier to talk to someone who's already looking at you.
He just threw her off the track, she wanted to speak half a second later.
This light brown hair.
These deep blue eyes.
This attentive look.
>"You're new here? I have never seen you before."
You answer.
She asks.
You tell her your name.
You make a small joke about the building.
Maybe the architect should have constructed corn mazes.
She laughts. Oh yeah.
She offers to show you the building later on.
>"Oh, really? You'd do that? It's quite big."
She laughs again and her hair flows in the spring light as you walk past a window.
You can smell her perfume.
>"I can hadle it! Sure, pinky promise!"
You arrive at the cafeteria.
You get your food, walk to a table.
You weren't here before.
You had no friends.
You only ate at home.
But today...
Other people join you, her friends,
male and female.
They introduce themselves.
They talk.
You talk.
They invite you to a party this weekend.
Tomorrow they'll meet in the campus park.
Playing cards. Music. Fun. You're welcome.
Break's over.
Two more hours.
That's it for today.
You get up.
She's already standing by your side.
Again you walk down the corridor.
But not the same direction as the others.
They are leaving.
You are just getting started.
She promised to show you something.
It's early spring.
It's a nice day.
You two are alone now in this building wing.
All other people have already left.
This feeling...
you are part of something.
This is not supposed to be happening.
You are supposed to take the bus
home.
Eat.
Learn.
Sleep.
But now...
you are part of something.
You can feel it.
You're not a passive figure in life.
Not anymore.
You walk along the orphaned corridors.
The corridor ends.
It doesn't go any further, but there is a large window from which you look down on the campus park.
She stands right beside you.
She. How?
For a moment, neither of you speak.
Then you hear her voice.
Gentle, feminine.
Soft.
>"Hey, Anon..."
She comes closer...
... the window... the low sun... the light rays... her hair, perfume. The atmosphere.
You and her alone in the orphaned corridor, a secluded corner.
... and as she stands on her tiptoes you hug her
and your lips meet.
You close your eyes.
The rays of the afternoon sun paint wonderful patterns on the wall.
On your face.
Her face.
Both of you.
Caressing you.
This moment exists just for you.
You're not a passive figure in life.
Not anymore.
...
Twelve hours later, you are back in your dorm.
This is life?
How did I even survive this long?
I found friends.
My entire life, I did not have a single friend.
My entire life, I rotted in my room.
Staring on a phone screen...
I was a loser. A loner. Ignored and trampled upon. A freak.
But now...
I found friends.
And a girlfriend...
We talked. We walked.
We kissed...
We...
Her soft tender body...
This is what people experience...
People want me. They like me.
This is life.
And if you don't experience this, you are not alive.
This much now he knew.
She reluctantly accepted that he was tired. Had things to do. Needed some time for himself.
But tomorrow they would see each other again.
He had to promise that.
You sit down.
You remember...
You and her, you did not take the bus.
You walked the entire way, her eyes were shining, fixated on you.
And with every laugh, every syllable she spoke, the scars deep within him healed.
His miserable existence was healing.
All that he missed...
all that he longed for...
He actually got it. He did not even try.
It just happened.
It just happened.
But... you were granted one day.
Time is running out.
He looks at his smart phone.
Several unread messages.
From several people. His new friends.
But he has to check time. Time has come.
He gets up, to the bathroom.
The mirror.
And then it happens. It starts slowly.
Sinking into the ground. But this is not what's happening. He gets shorter.
Not just a bit. Quite a lot. 5 inches. 10 inches.
His frame... there is no frame anymore.
His eyes... everything is blurry. He grabs his glasses.
They are brown.
His nose, his beautiful nose. His ugly nose.
His skin looks neglected. Unkempt.
His face, unrecognizable.
Above the temples... the back of the head.
Too much. Too much to cope. Too much to comprehend.
Hairs fall, like shooting stars.
But they do not glow.
They fade.
And so does he.
Going to the cafeteria? It was so effortlessly...
But without friends, all alone...
Talking, simply talking to others...
Who would want to listen now?
The verdict of over two decades could not be any clearer.
The party in the park...
he would be alone
alone in his room
staring at his phone screen
but without messages.
For years
decades...
How does this end?
And it ends right here.
His soul scatters.
Just as human bones cannot withstand the force of a metal block weighting a hundred tons, his soul cannot withstand what the mirror shows.
Cannot withstand the realization what he gained.
What he lost.
One day... so much more worth than his entire life.
Life? ...is this life?
It isn't.
He cannot recover from this.
He cannot stay here.
He gets up and flees.
To the same place where he arrived.
He does not flee society.
Not in this sense.
He actually enjoyed it.
Talking to people.
Hearing his voice.
Seeing how they listen.
Her company.
He does not hate it.
He hates that he's missing it.
And this justifies hatred
because he did what he could.
It wasn't enough.
Will never be enough.
It was only enough -
he didn't even have to try -
when he wasn't himself.
He didn't even have to try...
Is this a loving society?
That only loves those who don't need it?
You cannot flee your body.
Can you?
A hundred tons of steel get into motion, as effortlessly gliding towards him on tracks
as he glided into other's life.
Not just life.
When he was tall.
Attactive.
Not anymore.
His body reunites with his soul.
###
change the train
and the station
with ammo, uni and a gun
if you want to
###
You think this wouldn't ever have happened to you anyway?
You think it is far too unlikely to be in the top 3% of attractiveness?
But objective attractiveness is a symmnetric probability distribution.
It is equally likely to be in the lowest lows and highest heights.
The odds to be a truecel and to be a ultrachad are equal.
Your conscience could have entered the emerging cells of an ultrachad-embryo.
It was a coin toss and you got the wrong side.
It was equally likely.
If the coin had fallen differently, then all what I described would have happened to you in one iteration or another.
This story is not a far fetched fantasy.
Somewhere in a university an attractive man is entering a room full of unknown people and inevitably things will play out as they always do.
It is reality.
It is happening right now.
For those whose coins fell differently.
Just not for you.
Every time you see a woman you like, every time, every waking hour, in every social situation, remember:
It was a coin toss. She could have been yours.
You could have been attractive enough.
You were so, so close...
But then, one last time, sluggishly and slowly, the coin rotated around its own axis.
And then it fell.
It was the wrong side.
Remember this. Every time. For the rest of your life.
