One would say that after a consistent stream of broken illusions and worse, the awful status quo, I should've learnt my lesson and just put some lead inside my skull. But, like the fool I am, the 0.0001% of hopeful bluepiller in me refuses to give up. I am a rational being, I know I am losing, I know I will keep losing, I know I *am* a loser. And yet, cruelly, I keep walking into the ring just to get my ass whooped by the blackpill. As always, it did. Again, and again, and again. I irrationally bet on myself, I know I am not going to take a single win, I know this will go on until life gets tired of me and scorts me out. I know it doesn't get better, and yet, I expect it to. Dumb, dumb incel...
I am not strong, I am weaker than even the cruelest of you could assume. But fear gathers strength, I am the proof of it. We all know the shit we incels have to pass through, I am a emotionally weak truecel, and yet what keeps me alive is simply fear. I am a machine powered by fear. I am terrified of death, as I am agnostic and raised catholic. What if I finally rope and hell is on the other side? Worse still, what if there is nothing? I've said before, I'd rather be hurt than be alone...
I tried, I did try everything. But as cruel as the blackpill may be, the bluepilled mind is worse. I committed the mistake of trying to explain my situation, and it was with humiliation that I was met with punishment.
— You are an incel? Stop being awkward, stop hating yourself, stop watching porn, stop being ugly. Fix one, and the rest will be fixed too.
— Um, I don't watch porn.
— Well, nobody will love you if you don't love yourself.
— I don't love myself BECAUSE nobody else does.
— Work out.
— I do. I'm still a manlet. And a very ugly one, too.
— Get a better personality.
— Personality is relative. Anything Chad does will be good because he's Chad. Anything incel does will be bad because he's incel.
Following this interaction, he recognized this was going nowhere and stopped. Better than some, most would've yelled at me for saying the truth. People don't like being corrected, they feel in a moral high ground when giving an incel advice, and not being able to counter the fact that the blackpill is a thing makes them feel put out of said high ground. When a bluepiller gives you advice, they are trying to make themselves happy, not you. They are trying to reassure themselves of their fair world utopia. And you not bending to it as if it were true, annoys them. When the normie gives you advice, be very aware, it's not meant for your ears but for his.
In a way, I find the blackpill gentler than the bluepill. The bluepill puts you in a carrot on a stick situation, making you hopeful for something that will never come, in exchange for your effort. The blackpill comes into your room, belt in hand, and tells you exactly what it is going to do to you.
It's a cruel joke. A very sadistically interesting predicament. Being, being born, being self-aware, being in a good-enough economic position. I have been defeated. I want to be happy, I can't even exist in other people's eyes, and I want to be happy. I play on the stage of life the same role as the background flowers. I am useless, I am filler content, I shouldn't be alive, I don't want to be alive, if I died nobody would give a fuck. But I am too scared.
I can't die, I can't live. I can't be loved, and I'm not important enough to be hated. I want to do it all, but can't do anything.
If there's such a thing as a god, he's a sadist.
I am not strong, I am weaker than even the cruelest of you could assume. But fear gathers strength, I am the proof of it. We all know the shit we incels have to pass through, I am a emotionally weak truecel, and yet what keeps me alive is simply fear. I am a machine powered by fear. I am terrified of death, as I am agnostic and raised catholic. What if I finally rope and hell is on the other side? Worse still, what if there is nothing? I've said before, I'd rather be hurt than be alone...
I tried, I did try everything. But as cruel as the blackpill may be, the bluepilled mind is worse. I committed the mistake of trying to explain my situation, and it was with humiliation that I was met with punishment.
— You are an incel? Stop being awkward, stop hating yourself, stop watching porn, stop being ugly. Fix one, and the rest will be fixed too.
— Um, I don't watch porn.
— Well, nobody will love you if you don't love yourself.
— I don't love myself BECAUSE nobody else does.
— Work out.
— I do. I'm still a manlet. And a very ugly one, too.
— Get a better personality.
— Personality is relative. Anything Chad does will be good because he's Chad. Anything incel does will be bad because he's incel.
Following this interaction, he recognized this was going nowhere and stopped. Better than some, most would've yelled at me for saying the truth. People don't like being corrected, they feel in a moral high ground when giving an incel advice, and not being able to counter the fact that the blackpill is a thing makes them feel put out of said high ground. When a bluepiller gives you advice, they are trying to make themselves happy, not you. They are trying to reassure themselves of their fair world utopia. And you not bending to it as if it were true, annoys them. When the normie gives you advice, be very aware, it's not meant for your ears but for his.
In a way, I find the blackpill gentler than the bluepill. The bluepill puts you in a carrot on a stick situation, making you hopeful for something that will never come, in exchange for your effort. The blackpill comes into your room, belt in hand, and tells you exactly what it is going to do to you.
It's a cruel joke. A very sadistically interesting predicament. Being, being born, being self-aware, being in a good-enough economic position. I have been defeated. I want to be happy, I can't even exist in other people's eyes, and I want to be happy. I play on the stage of life the same role as the background flowers. I am useless, I am filler content, I shouldn't be alive, I don't want to be alive, if I died nobody would give a fuck. But I am too scared.
I can't die, I can't live. I can't be loved, and I'm not important enough to be hated. I want to do it all, but can't do anything.
If there's such a thing as a god, he's a sadist.
but I can say there is light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes I can really say I am happy when I engage in high quality copes despite the blackpill beating me up
