I want love, and I want to feel a woman’s breasts and embrace her body.
I admit. But I can’t, so why bother even fapping. I can’t watch porn anymore because it’s not real, I’m fapping to a screen of nothing.
I’m fapping to a wet dream that will never be a wet reality. What’s the point in that.
I’ve lost all libido, all hope. And death seems more enjoyable than the life I’m living.
At least in death all my problems won’t be my problems anymore, they’d be dissolved.
Won’t have to worry about getting a job or people seeing me as a disappointment or failure because I’ll be gone.
In my own void of happiness, the emptiness of being non existent.
I admit. But I can’t, so why bother even fapping. I can’t watch porn anymore because it’s not real, I’m fapping to a screen of nothing.
I’m fapping to a wet dream that will never be a wet reality. What’s the point in that.
I’ve lost all libido, all hope. And death seems more enjoyable than the life I’m living.
At least in death all my problems won’t be my problems anymore, they’d be dissolved.
Won’t have to worry about getting a job or people seeing me as a disappointment or failure because I’ll be gone.
In my own void of happiness, the emptiness of being non existent.
