This is what happens when the life you thought you’d have as a kid never ends up happening. You might fall in love, then get rejected due to your genetic shortcomings and not even realize it at the time, and spend years in bluepilled denial about your circumstances until you finally accept that there’s nothing you can do and it isn’t your fault.
I have daydreamed about the life I wanted every single day for years, wasting away on my phone and listening to music, creating my own soundtrack for my ideal imaginary life as I create fake scenarios in my head like an autist listening to an anime fighting soundtrack while imagining himself with supernatural powers as he fights someone in front of his limerence (oneitis/any woman of interest), ultimately winning her over.
Due to my uncanny appearance and being non-neurotypical, these fantasies are impossible and I’m self aware enough to know that much, so as I’ve gotten older I’ve inevitably turned to various coping mechanisms including substances like alcohol and of course tobacco, slowly wasting myself away while the woman who I thought I’d end up with is experiencing her peak as a genetically superior man claims her as his own. She is happy in life, and I am rotting as I run my fingers through my embarrassingly patchy beard and stare down at my semen stained pillow, pondering where everything had went wrong.
This is the life my parents gave me. A life of cripplingly depressing observation, spectating a game I’m not permitted to play, sitting beside a feast where I cannot eat, chained just inches away from a crystal clear lake where I am not able to drink. Deprived, starving, dehydrated, and most of all lost.
I have daydreamed about the life I wanted every single day for years, wasting away on my phone and listening to music, creating my own soundtrack for my ideal imaginary life as I create fake scenarios in my head like an autist listening to an anime fighting soundtrack while imagining himself with supernatural powers as he fights someone in front of his limerence (oneitis/any woman of interest), ultimately winning her over.
Due to my uncanny appearance and being non-neurotypical, these fantasies are impossible and I’m self aware enough to know that much, so as I’ve gotten older I’ve inevitably turned to various coping mechanisms including substances like alcohol and of course tobacco, slowly wasting myself away while the woman who I thought I’d end up with is experiencing her peak as a genetically superior man claims her as his own. She is happy in life, and I am rotting as I run my fingers through my embarrassingly patchy beard and stare down at my semen stained pillow, pondering where everything had went wrong.
This is the life my parents gave me. A life of cripplingly depressing observation, spectating a game I’m not permitted to play, sitting beside a feast where I cannot eat, chained just inches away from a crystal clear lake where I am not able to drink. Deprived, starving, dehydrated, and most of all lost.
