When I was still in a state of bluepill ignorance, I eagerly awaited the day when a foid would finally discover my "true self". This magical unicorn would peer through the forbidding veil of my ugliness and disability and see my kindness, my intelligence, my humor and sense of wonder. But alas, the unicorn never arrived. And now I realize that she in all likelihood doesn't even exist.
What's more, she probably cannot exist. This world, and its foids in particular, simply doesn't care who a man truly is, on the inside. Not out of unwillingness per se, but out of sheer inability. People, with very, very few exceptions, are merely blind extensions of the inexorable forces of nature. Birth, selection, decay, death, birth, selection, decay, death; rinse and repeat ad infinitum et ad nauseam. All of human culture, from art to science, from religion to low-brow amusement, is just one massive cope, erected to hide the brutality of the processes of nature from the view of those unfortunate enough to surmise the truth. The structures, social, psychological, political, physical, with which humans surround themselves from the cradle to the grave are certainly impressive; no denying that. But when you carefully and unflinchingly deconstruct those structures, they turn out to be cope nonetheless, down to the very last one.
To reiterate, the world doesn't care who you are, only what you are. And the options for what you might be are extremely limited. You, as a man, are either chad or you're not chad. In the eyes of foids, and most men as well, we non-chads are at best completely interchangeable units for the production of useful goods and services. At worst, we are enemies and unwelcome competitors in the scramble for resources and reproductive opportunities, to be shunned at all cost, if not outright eliminated. Men don't have souls anymore. The soul of man is now a fiction belonging the past, a tenuous illusion even in the best of former times. Welcome to a world populated with clownesque NPCs. You're gonna "enjoy" it (or not).
What's more, she probably cannot exist. This world, and its foids in particular, simply doesn't care who a man truly is, on the inside. Not out of unwillingness per se, but out of sheer inability. People, with very, very few exceptions, are merely blind extensions of the inexorable forces of nature. Birth, selection, decay, death, birth, selection, decay, death; rinse and repeat ad infinitum et ad nauseam. All of human culture, from art to science, from religion to low-brow amusement, is just one massive cope, erected to hide the brutality of the processes of nature from the view of those unfortunate enough to surmise the truth. The structures, social, psychological, political, physical, with which humans surround themselves from the cradle to the grave are certainly impressive; no denying that. But when you carefully and unflinchingly deconstruct those structures, they turn out to be cope nonetheless, down to the very last one.
To reiterate, the world doesn't care who you are, only what you are. And the options for what you might be are extremely limited. You, as a man, are either chad or you're not chad. In the eyes of foids, and most men as well, we non-chads are at best completely interchangeable units for the production of useful goods and services. At worst, we are enemies and unwelcome competitors in the scramble for resources and reproductive opportunities, to be shunned at all cost, if not outright eliminated. Men don't have souls anymore. The soul of man is now a fiction belonging the past, a tenuous illusion even in the best of former times. Welcome to a world populated with clownesque NPCs. You're gonna "enjoy" it (or not).
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