I talked with my sister's rich, pampered chadlite boyfriend and he went on about his """anxiety""" problems. Dude has no problems in his life whatsoever and never had any but he has mad anxiety yeah right. 
I found it baffling when he said that it happens to him when he's alone at home. I'm a lifelong outcast at the bottom of the food chain with a fucked up life story that's just objectively completely antithetical to his, i'm very familiar with those feelings and i concluded that he's either the biggest pussy in existence or just a fucking liar over exagerating shit.
I might be too good for giving the benefit of the doubt, for even entertaining that possibility but who knows : maybe normies are really wired differently and have mental breakdowns at the first sign of solitude, despite the whole world outside being their fucking oyster and waiting for them. If that's the case then to me it simply says something about his character or lack thereof. Imagine not being able to have a great time in the comfiest place ever mentally that is your home. I know loneliness gets to us too sometimes but this is something else. It's like he can't sit in peace with his own consciousness for two days because of how shallow he is.
Which, all things considered, makes complete sense : despite pushing thirties, his wisdom about life consisted of the most vapid platitudes. It was painful to stand there pretending this fascicle of a human being wasn't telling the most revolting banalities under the sun, absolutely convinced that he could relate to me. I didn't tell much but got the hint that my sister told him some things. And i swear this smug bourgeois asshole, sweating smugness from all it's pores, could give the most self-satisfied pep talk to some dying homeless guy
I found it baffling when he said that it happens to him when he's alone at home. I'm a lifelong outcast at the bottom of the food chain with a fucked up life story that's just objectively completely antithetical to his, i'm very familiar with those feelings and i concluded that he's either the biggest pussy in existence or just a fucking liar over exagerating shit.I might be too good for giving the benefit of the doubt, for even entertaining that possibility but who knows : maybe normies are really wired differently and have mental breakdowns at the first sign of solitude, despite the whole world outside being their fucking oyster and waiting for them. If that's the case then to me it simply says something about his character or lack thereof. Imagine not being able to have a great time in the comfiest place ever mentally that is your home. I know loneliness gets to us too sometimes but this is something else. It's like he can't sit in peace with his own consciousness for two days because of how shallow he is.
Which, all things considered, makes complete sense : despite pushing thirties, his wisdom about life consisted of the most vapid platitudes. It was painful to stand there pretending this fascicle of a human being wasn't telling the most revolting banalities under the sun, absolutely convinced that he could relate to me. I didn't tell much but got the hint that my sister told him some things. And i swear this smug bourgeois asshole, sweating smugness from all it's pores, could give the most self-satisfied pep talk to some dying homeless guy
