I was getting mad today. Thinking about my goddamn wasted life, and my goddamn hopeless life. But what really upset me was all the time I worked to better myself, fully believing there was a reward at the end of the tunnel. Why did people promise me happiness if I worked for it?
Then I thought of my hatred of society. Why does my inceldom make me upset, but the idea of mass-murder makes me chuckle? Because I'm selfish, yes. But another reason too: I'm not a part of society, I'm a reject.
The reason I don't care about other people is because they don't care about me. So many of us are alienated, and when we do reach out to others all we receive are rebukes and scorn. If people could actually empathize, they'd understand the psychological harm of being perpetually rejected - our very life's essence, DNA - and why we think and act rashly.
Add to that denying sex to insatiable young men, and you have the cesspool of hatred that fills every one of us.
Then I thought of my hatred of society. Why does my inceldom make me upset, but the idea of mass-murder makes me chuckle? Because I'm selfish, yes. But another reason too: I'm not a part of society, I'm a reject.
The reason I don't care about other people is because they don't care about me. So many of us are alienated, and when we do reach out to others all we receive are rebukes and scorn. If people could actually empathize, they'd understand the psychological harm of being perpetually rejected - our very life's essence, DNA - and why we think and act rashly.
Add to that denying sex to insatiable young men, and you have the cesspool of hatred that fills every one of us.
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