when you make your self stop needing it your inner void shall close. being alone isn't a bad thing. more solace and reading and exercise.
Yeah..., I still enjoy coping.
C
Only works for HTN sandniggers.
C
look the way she's looking at him, hes way uglier than me yet
C
look for her name online too
C
but a fat bitch like her might have gotten the bbc at least 30 times last year
C
he's a 2/10 im 3.5
T
It's a cruel world! To be denied what should be a simple thing. Are you still a mechanic?
Yes sir. Wageslaving as a way to survive.
That's good! I have to do the same despite despising work and the wagie life. Do you enjoy being a mechanic or is it dull now?
Yes, I love my work and cars. It is a hard job, but, it lets me survive. And if you live in a 1st world country, I guess the working conditions are still way better than here.
Foids are equal everywhere. But here, if you are normie or higher you can islammax and laws still protect patriarchy
I uses to live in a 1st world nation for work it was good but it made me hate my job I took a pay cut and I am currently somewhere better for me in general.
Brutal
dnr + cope
that sounds like gaslightingthat this life is a test of a supreme creator to test us even in hardcore mode.
Nafris really are niggers bruh
C
do they have bbc though?
Nigga you gay af
B
Well written.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
If you learned realism, then you know nobody planned your face to be below average.
It happened by happenstance, events.
Nor was there any malice.
Your parents love you.
Be thankful you have that.
Very sad story and thanks for sharing you suffering Moroccancel2-.
I hope you can cope with your life without suicide thoughts.
I hope you can cope with your life without suicide thoughts.
i hope we meet each other next life´s in better condition thanks niggas for reproducing to much and now we all are horrible.
Everything is written. If God put you in that situation, it's because it really was something better for you (even though you can't see it). God doesn't do things just for the sake of it, everything has a purpose. The truth is that it put me in "incel" mode, and the truth is that when time goes by I realize that I am privileged and in a better situation really. Because it would have ended up worse. I guess "better to be incel and be with God" than to be a normie bluepiller and be condemned.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
It really put you in a better situation and you don't see it, brother. You are not being deceived by female demons and you can go on with God. Look back on your life, reflect and you will see that it has saved you. God doesn't do things for the sake of it.
God bless you.
Brutal story.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
I am part French so I know many Moroccans who live in France. You are right to want to stay in Morocco. In France, you would feel even worse and everything is crazy expensive so in fact you would be poorer than you are now. Are you still a car mechanic? It is a good job by the way. There many old French cars in Morocco so they need a lot of maintenance.
I saw your thread on Kant. Did you learn philosophy on your own?
I studied him years ago in High School. And I still read him, along with other philosophers, yes.
Although I am much more interested in the philosophy of science and formal logic.
Have you read about Thomas Kuhn? And Ludwig Wittgenstein?
I have intensively read Feyerabend, Popper and Russell. I have Wittgenstein pending.
I am sure you will find Wittgenstein very interesting. In his youth he was 100% pro-Russell but then he went through a crisis and became completely anti-Russell. The reasons he shifted his position go down to the very roots of philosophy. He is, rightly in my view, considered to be the most influential philosopher of the 20th century, at least in the English-speaking world.
Tbh, I think that you are actually lucky to be in Morocco. From what you say, it seems that life is not too expensive there and so you can afford your own place + internet on your car mechanic salary. That is not bad. It means you can be an independent philosopher all you want without being nagged by a wife and other worldly concerns. This is pretty much the life I am leading here in India (I am an oldcel and living off my savings). Given what I see here I think I can pretty much imagine what your life looks like. Honestly, it is not that bad, when you think of it.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
God Is real but is a demiurge. Modern soyence is a big scamYes. And I would like to believe in Allah again, enter into the supreme belief that this life is a test of a supreme creator to test us even in hardcore mode.
However, the more I reflect on it, the more I realize that this half paternal and half maternal divinity is the greatest idealization that the human mind has been able to create.
Marxism is great too, it just explains everything.
Foids are exactly the same all over the world. There is not the slightest difference between them.
M
Why don't u sell some of ur assets and use the money to surgical improve ur face or even ur height with LL?
Read every word.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
All I can say is I understand exactly how you feel brother. It is sad we have to live in a cruel world like this.
How is going to America going to help him JFL.
America is one of the worst places in the world to be incel in. Followed by UK and Europe.
I do not believe in that Islamic crap cope.
L
This is one of the reasons I'm glad a earthquake happened in my home country and forced me to emigrate to the United States.
I used to live in a place where there was no internet and I doubt there was any translation of the blackpill in that countries native language. A life of ignorance. It truly would've been a horrible life. At least I can know why things are here through the internet.
Its the dream for the majority of men in this world (or was...)
I know it's no comfort, but women are just problem factories. Since the door is closed, find other things to invest your spare time into, stuff where your looks don't affect the outcome. Are there any kickboxing gyms around? It's extremely satisfying as far as exercise, and the other benefit is obvious.
brutal even hijabis are so controlled by their sexuality.
I hate your country more and more. You should go to the strictest teacher and tell them what they want to do to you. Poor maroccancel
this shitty country.
Finally make a revolution against your shitty system.
You finally freed yourself from religion. Religion is just a cope that provides false hope to people like us, now you have enlightened yourself by swallowing the blackpill. Welcome to reality.I know that maybe nobody is interested in this, but I had the need to create this post after that little suicidal breakdown I had. Thanks @Mortis for your kind words.
I was born in the 90s in a humble family in the suburbs of the city of Kenitra. My father was short in stature, brown skin but his face was tolerable to look at. It wasn't beautiful, but it wasn't repulsive either. My mother, on the other hand, was slightly lighter-skinned, but not by much. I must say that my mother was even shorter than my father (he was 165, she, 159 and finished being heighted as 5'7'' - 170 cm).
My childhood was extremely hard. For those ages I was the lowest in the class, my face was deformed, and not because of any disease, it was just like that. My classmates always beat me up, the girls always laughed at me and when I appeared they always called me "الوحش" or the monster, he always cried in front of everyone. And once I urinated on myself in class when they threatened to steal the books that my parents had spent so much money buying me with their work.
In the throes of my childhood and adolescence, I was extremely devoted to Islam. I believed that one day this suffering would end and that I could achieve the dream of every Moroccan man of my generation: earn money, have a stable job, have a place to live of your own, wife and children. And I believed that I could reach high. I had a strong and iron will to achieve my biggest dreams..., I always believed it...
When it was time for the university entrance exams, my parents sat me down in the living room and told me that they couldn't pay for my university studies so they told to stop studying and find a job. So I learned the mechanic's trade with my uncle. It hurt so much. It hurt me like a thousand pangs in my heart, because my great dream of getting out of my painful situation was broken. However, as a good Muslim, I entrusted myself to Allah, and I began to learn and work as a mechanic, saving money, looking to achieve my other dream: to get married and have children.
After several years, I saved enough to afford a place to live, a car that I fixed myself, which wasn't very good, but was pretty reliable, and some savings to be able to live as one more worker.
The moment of truth arrived, and I decided to look for a girl to marry. First, search the mosque through an imaam, and no family agreed. Neither did any of his daughters accept me; "I don't want to marry that ugly man with my dsughter", I listened in whispers when the imam asked a father. And the cycle was repeated, and repeated, and repeated. Up to almost 20 times. So much that I gave up, so much that I gave up, so much that I wanted to die. All my illusions had died. Yes, I had a house, I had money with which to live a life without many luxuries, humble, but in a certain way materially rewarding.
I got so depressed that I couldn't take it anymore inside Islam. I could not forgive Allah for creating me as a sub-human. I couldn't accept Allah doing this to me after all the worship I gave him. I couldn't believe that Allah tested people like that and..., I fell into atheism. I started reading and watching videos about Richard Dawkins, evolutionary biology, psychology..., and one day, i googled: "how to make women like me" and from one thing to another, I ended up in the redpill, not as someone who took improvement advice because I knew I couldn't improve, but as a way of understanding many things about reality. After that, a short time later, I found out that various users on various networks were talking about the "blackpill" and... everything became crystal clear. Now I understood everything: a 5'7'' man, 10 cm-4 inches dick, a face that is legitimately 2/10..., a real trucel...
Life passes, and while the world dreams of the future, Sometimes I dream of never having been born. And there I stay, there I stay, without a horizon, without hope, without strategies to ascend because for people like me there are none.
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