/wwoym/ Take the Plunge edition
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Write Whats On Your Mind
/wwoym/ Take the Plunge edition
Previously
It's All Fucked Shirt $22.14 |
Tip Your Landlord Shirt $21.68 |
It's All Fucked Shirt $22.14 |
I feel this man. Ive been unemployed for almost 2 months now (and before that worked for 2 weeks, but was unemployed for 4 months, so altogether really more like 6 months) and I'm starting to feel like a subhuman, like an actual rat vagabond. Or like I've neen permanently cast out of normal society with no chance of re-entrance.
You find yourself doing things you never thought you would. "Is this really me?"
I was recently torturing myself looking at the LinkedIn pages of former middle and high school classmates. Most all of them have gone on to successful careers: investment banker, programmer, Lead Sales/Marketing head, etc. All expertly written with some professional tier headshot.
Then I looked back on mine: a crappy I.d photo from when i was a freshman, B.A in English and a few shitjobs.
>You find yourself doing things you never thought you would. "Is this really me?"
Please tell me it's not some gay shit like jerking off 3 times in a row. If you're gonna be employed either go monk mode or become full-time fun degenerate. Go to bars and talk shit. Enjoy having nothjng to lose.Maybe someone will give you a job or punch you out. Either way it doesn't matter since you're a loser.
>>You find yourself doing things you never thought you would. "Is this really me?"
>Please tell me it's not some gay shit like jerking off 3 times in a row.
No, I don't really have the will to jerk it. Maybe at most once a week.
More pathetic than that, more like sitting in my car compulsively browsing IQfy for 8 hours straight. Or reading which feels almost as pathetic, a means of avoiding life.
What i really meant though is having to do things like go to a pool to shower, taking toilet paper from public bathrooms. Staring at your ugly mug in the filthy mirror, my broken glasses held together by a bandaid, and my oddly discolored face pocked red all over and blackish grey eye shadow under the eyes.
>If you're gonna be unemployed either go monk mode or become full-time fun degenerate. Go to bars and talk shit. Enjoy having nothjng to lose.
But I do have things to lose. I wish I didn't. Going to bars is expensive. Going places puts wear on my car which is my home now so i have to be extremely cautious. I need to keep saving as much money as possible I only have 11k (& some stocks but i don't ever touch my investments).
I think it’s highly unlikely that most or even half of your classmates have ended up particularly successful. And what is the difference between being a programmer or a retail cashier really? Both make just enough to be able to continue to waste their whole lives working.
You could say theres status involved, but tbh code monkeys are far more boring than cashiers.
>Both make just enough to be able to continue to waste their whole lives working.
counterpoint: life is pretty shit no matter what so harsh judging wagies isn't entirely reasonable
True, also the difference in wage between a cashier and a programmer is pretty significant.
With that kind of money you can save a pretty significant amount, and just choose to be a neet for a year if you want.
Pretty significant different standard of living.
>bhuman, like an actual rat vagabond. Or like I've neen permanently cast out of normal society with no chance of re-entrance.
>You find yourself doing things you never thought you would. "Is this really me?"
>I was recently torturing myself looking at the LinkedIn pages of former middle and high school classmates. Most all of them have gone on to successful careers: investment banker, programmer, Lead Sales/Marketing head, etc. All expertly written with some professional tier headshot.
>Then I looked back on mine: a crappy I.d photo from when i was a freshman, B.A in English and a few shitjobs.
I know the feeling anon, I was bitter about my high school friends getting better jobs while I had nothing but shitty jobs and long bouts of unemployment. Now I work at a library and have no idea how I got here.
I'm just a poor Latin American goy without any properties on my name or a fat bank account.
Das lastima guey
eeeeu sou apenas um rapaz latinoamericano
seeeeem dinheiro no banco, sem parentes importantes
e vindo do interior!
mas seeeei que nada é divino
nada é maravilhoso
nada é sagrado
nada é misterioso não, uhumm u-u-u-umm
am am, am ammmmmmm
How quickly should the first chapters of a novel move to keep you interested?
It should move at the same pace as the rest of the novel, "hooks" are for short stories and pulp fiction only.
If you're writing pulp or trying to ape the style for some super cool artistic allegory (like a certain author that's been in the limelight recently for his use of Western tropes), cranking that device to 11 is probably your best bet. You could even be super duper original and use the fact that it's a period piece to point out how at one time America was violent and also racist. No one in literature has done anything like that at all in the past 50 years and it surely wouldn't be stale, or attempt to defy the fact that the young men who read Louis Lamour as a kid are 10x better for themselves, society, and their families than people who've read deconstruction after countless deconstruction as young men.
But yeah, if you're not doing an undertaking like that, just keep the pace consistent. Nothing is worse as a reader than feeling teased with what could've been just to be dragged into an author's masturbatory slop.
As quick as you want it but don't listen to Black folk saying a novel shouldn't have any hook.
You calling me a Black person? Hooks are for low brow genres or books seeking to ape them, you filthy jackanape. Miscreant.
no way that's real
The meaning of life is to avoid social shame.
I'm just trying to go through life without looking stupid. It's not working out so well.
it's possible to have extreme competence within one domain while still being a chudcel everywhere else. find that domain, and find a social outlet for it.
That is a very east asian way of looking at life
le paranoid man
Pool cleaner man? Or do you mean Icke?
How the frick do I make regrets go away
Is there a common writer’s personality?
Shut in, self pitying, alcoholic, delusions of grandeur.
Somehow, even hedonism has become boring
My ass is a swamp.
Ludwig Klages is fricking based. He's Nietzsche without the troony neuroticism and actually being honest about affirming life.
>Nietzsche was a troony now too
for christ's sake
I think he reads like an angsty overdrawn twitter shitpost, yes.
>he reads like an angsty overdrawn twitter shitpost
>therefore he was a troony
absolutely mentally ill
In the spiritual sense, yes. Like all urbanite cucks
Is it even realistic to want to start a family in today's world?
According to zillow's "buying power" calculator, I'm priced out of every zipcode in a 300 mile radius.
My only hope is to CDL my way the frick outa here and live in a truck. I'ds gonna be a miracle if I pass the drug test.
Is a girl like this too much to ask for?
>hapa with danger hair
run
Is that a hapa? Looks like a Peruvian silver miner
never knew digging for precious metals in the earth had affirmative action programs.
I think she's Taino
its funny and sad at the same time male birds have bright plumage to attract mates, conversely, human females do the exact same thing to repel potential mates
I am an expert on happas and I can tell you that she is not a happa, unless you're one of those autists that insists amerindians are technically asiatics so therefore mestizos are happas (I know someone who unironically believes this)
I mean there's a case to be made for the former but probably not the latter
>I am an expert on happas
What are your qualifications? Where did you study?
My dad and his wife are arguing 🙁
---- Solaria ----
0490
The Idea Of Scenic Systems Implied By Chatsworth
I hate and fear horses, big violent animals, about half a ton each
With brains little bigger than walnuts or so.
I prefer cars and perspectives from which one can easily sense
Slight variations in bindweed, and other species
Whose blooms and growth habits escape idiot attention.
Command over things, not other persons,
Not even minds slight and fleeting as those of feral cats.
I've done cringe pathetic shit because I was suicidal. I wanna bury myself alive and die.
I've spent the last 72 hours in a state of intense fever. I would sleep a very long time, then wake up randomly and start having fits of paranoia or entering a dreamlike state in which people from my past would come and talk to me. A lots of these thoughts were about work or my ex, and I would try to shake myself out of these whenever I realized where I was with no avail.
Having cut ties with almost everyone I knew, no one but my employer and my colleagues at work knows of my general state. It has been an excruciating 72 hours. It's like every thought I had repressed during the year came down crashing on my weakened mind.
I've bought a kinder bueno from a 24/7. I'm going to eat it and then I'll have to go back to bed. My nose is running and I feel like absolute shit. God help me.
I betray Christ and myself every day. I get nothing out of it. At least Judas got 30 bucks out of the deal. I literally do it for free.
oh anon, bless your heart. your post gave me a chuckle at least. may the light guide you, i hope you find peace
here ya go, team. oc just for u *muah*
Kino. Excellent work!
reading the epic of gilgamesh
it shouldn't be but it feels weird how similar it is to stuff that's written today
There is great confusion in the modern age. People are asked "What role would you like?" and to pursue their vain whims, and not "What role do you have?" to fulfill a great destiny set before them.
sadly existentialism completely btfo of essentialism
not if you are a goethean, essences just need to be sympathetically intuited and brought forth into the world, they are latent and virtual at first. you have to become what you are. both being and becoming are necessary.
False dichotomy both exist complimentary anyways
https://allpoetry.com/journal/10906391-Henrik-Ibsen-s--Peer-Gynt-s-Button-Moulder--by-Kevin-Anthony
---- Solaria ----
0491
Nothing Proprietary
He never mentioned a father kind and and intelligent as
The pleasure of something fond, kind
As a supply of sources where Strontium red and Barium green
Are described completely as one wishes.
Doubtless he'd be outraged by how well i've lived
And so is any monster CEO.
cuck cuck cuck cuck cuck cuck cukc[
hahahahaahhhhhaahaha cuck
---- Solaria ----
0492
Network
That Christmas we sat together and I looked into
Your big lucid blue eyes and appreciated at last how good you are.
I haven't so sweet a will, but something more in foresight.
I feel so trapped and immobilized by life that I just want to run away.
Eloquently put. I never wanted to run away, only to stay where I am, with or without a lover or two.
I think the appeal of pepe is that deep down we remaiend innocent like pepe but the world made us to be otherwise.
My argument is that pepe is the pure emotional archetype. Innocence is therefore also part of it since he is not corrupted by constant simulated noise that reduces the pieces of all art. We are innocent by definition since we have always been children, but only became adults recently, it's always there.
frogs are good bois and girls to me. as much as this board gets bent out of shape over "frogposting" I like seeing pepe every now and then.
I'll go as far as to say, if it's a frog poster, chances are the tread is actually better than the regular. Definitely better than lust bait. If a person goes as far as to post a frog, AND a rare one if lucky, he is an individual of an acquired taste and so the quality would show.
The lust bait I’ve fallen to many times because in my life because every woman is either a borderline head case or super sarcastic or nigh passive aggressive. To be fair the only that makes me not gay is that women look like total works of art compared to the garbage dump men are and women can carry babies. That’s literally it. I actually only see them in pragmatic terms, i.e, they exist so our species doesn’t die.
It's the same appeal as cats or monkeys doing human stuff. It's silly and goofy
I'm an INTJ
you ain't smarter than me
I'm stuck between two worlds. The non-religious one and the religious one. I've been in the former all my life and started entering the latter one a few years go.
This has caused me to rethink every last relationship I had. Refusing advances, refusing invitations to party, refusing attempts at love relationships... Those things have been the only things keeping me afloat in a world I didn't like, so it has been an harrowing set of events so far. I'm too religious to be normal anymore but I still haven't made a full dive in the religious world yet. I wish I were born in a religious country and taught how to live without all of these things from the beginning. I met a few people who were waiting till marriage. If we ignore the past we all have the same lives right now except they seem much more happy than I am.
It's like I'm stuck in mud. I don't really enjoy life, and I always feel tired, and I can't really reach out to anyone because I don't have family nor friends who will understand or, if they do, keep things to themselves. I haven't slept much, so my line of thought is hazy, sorry. I know I should keep my eyes on God and that one day things will probably sort themselves out but I feel really alone in this struggle. When I wasn't religious I always had a partner I could talk to and getting hugs made things a little better at least for an instant. God I really miss that.
Many of us are struggling bro, but let's be grateful to the Lord we're alive and healthy and thank Him for every day no matter how hard it seems.
I'm afraid it's over for me
I need to make some mature friends my age.
I hope to God your 20s aren’t your defining decade
My teens were my defining decade. I had a legendary run in the 2000s and ive been taking it easy and phoning life in since 2010.
lemme guess you were the star high school running back? I figured as much.
No I was my high school baseball teams top slugger but that was just a footnote to all the stupid shit i accomplished before i even graduated.
Such as?
me too brother
My long term relationship of 6 years just ended last week. Currently in a STEM phd program in a different state and I don't want to start over. 25 y/o and would appreciate any words of advice
man i wish i could focus enough to do grad school but i know i'll just screw around and fail unless it's some wack artsy shit like 3d animation or something corny like that
was in the same situation a while ago
- if your ex is the one and you're breaking up for stupid shit get back together ASAP
- any other cases : you're going to suffer a lot. best advice I'd give you there is to consider her dead, cut ties with friends you have in common and NEVER ask for news. I'm adamant with this shit. you'll feel like throwing up the first time you're gonna hear what she's been up to since you broke up. better to never know.
- last piece of advice : you'll miss her a lot. redirect that energy on someone else or your PhD. yes things are going to suck for a while. never fail yourself
Thanks for the advice anon.
>if your ex is the one
We started dating our second year in uni. Three years later and I go to grad school 1000 miles away. We're madly in love so we gut it out for another 3 years, seeing each other only briefly every few months. This past summer made it clear that we are just different people now, no longer in love but just staying together out of comfort. I still have feelings, and I think she does too, but the distance has made things unsustainable; things just feel exhausting. She has also recently started school again so she has very little time. I think that breaking up is the right thing to do, but I can't imagine myself with a different girl. Even if things felt empty, I still do think she is the one. I left her in my home state when I left for grad school. Maybe I should've done things differently... sorry for the rant. Not many people to go to.
My highest accomplishment in life is opening a jar of pickles for my grandmother.
A poor chambermaid named Greta had been hired by Count Dracula himself, the owner of this majestic yet eerie abode nestled deep within the Carpathians. The pay promised was generous, but the workload seemed daunting; it would require meticulous care and attention to detail. Moreover, she was instructed to don a specific ensemble: a regal-looking yet humiliatingly brief attire that exposed copious amounts of bare flesh and left little doubt as to whether or not she wore any undergarments beneath. But the money was worth it, wasn't it? Or was it?
Greta set forth, determined to give this task her utmost effort. Each room sparkled with opulence and history, from ancient tapestries adorning the walls to marble statues perched atop pedestals, gazing blankly ahead like silent sentinels guarding secrets long lost to the ages. She worked diligently until hunger set in. Having stashed away some bread and cheese earlier, she paused briefly to indulge. The soft crunch of food mixed with the creaking of old timbers beneath her feet provided a comforting rhythm amidst the otherwise spooky ambiance. Alas, in the blink of an eye, fate dealt her an unexpected blow: she tripped upon an inconspicuous object obstructing her path. Tumbling forward, she landed hard, the breath knocked clear out of her lungs. Struggling to catch her breath, she slowly lifted her head, only to behold a horror unlike anything she could have ever imagined. Coiled tightly around her limp frame lay a monstrous serpent, its scaly hide rough against her skin. Eyes wide open, she watched helplessly as the great snake began to constrict her, applying pressure bit by bit until consciousness slipped away entirely. Time stood still now, the countless seconds ticking interminably as she descended deeper into darkness. All that remained visible was the shameful image captured forever by the security cameras: her legs akimbo, stockings askew, and the telltale bulge betwixt her thighs hinting at her indignity. Thus ends our tale of a misfortune stricken maiden undone by forces beyond her control, tragedy writ large upon the pages of folklore destined to haunt the annals of human memory.
greeta greeta
please to meet cha
I really enjoy stuff like Ligotti and Cioran but discussing them anywhere is such a hassle. It seems every fan of theirs is a self-hating miserable freak with some variety of ghoulish attributes, both physical and psychological.
That's not to say I don't still find myself in general agreement with the pessimists - I do - but discussing these topics could do without the droning on and on about ones own individual self-pity, and could do so much more with some investment in a general discussion of the state of life in general.
why do i have to believe that god is real to be a christian?
you'll never get past the gay sex ritual if you can't displace your shame and guilt onto a made-up creature, to insist that the debil made you do it.
i found a packet of marshmallows i'd put into the fridge several days ago.
I have a confession:
I practically killed my friend.
In Summer 2019 I was going through some troubles, while my friend was developing some of his own hundreds of miles away. I'll cut the tension and just say that I think he was becoming schizophrenic. I was too far away to see or help him out but I could've also spoke to him about what he was going though and I did, for the most part. Unfortunately, I thought I was unequipped to handle the situation he was going through and I tried to pass him off to some mental health helpline in the state he lived in. I didn't make further calls or anything because I was too busy trying to change something that was futile to deal with.
Meanwhile, he was dealing with this increasing schizophrenia and I wasn't there to help him or say anything. I remember when he asked me for some money for his birthday and I said I'd send him some, but I never did. Maybe he didn't need it, maybe he did, but it would've been real helpful to him to know that his friend cared.
Fast forward to December and in the meanwhile I've been trying to contact him for a while and getting no answers and no call backs. I thought that maybe he was upset with me, and he'd definitely have a right to be. However, I decided to go to his house one day and see if he'd answer the door. I bought him a pizza one day and had it delivered to his house, so I knew how to get there, and I left notes to see if I could contact him.
By the time I get back home from that trip to his house, I get a call from his sister, saying that he went to his father's house on the day after his birthday and was either killed by his dad or committed suicide.
While I was mucking about in my bullshit, he died. In August.
I think the worst part is that he and I had a mutual friend, and we were practically a trio, so when my other friend would ask about him, I'd pretend that he was alive because I didn't want to tell my friend that he was dead. He eventually found out about our friend's death and he informed me ASAP.
I remember denying this and wondering if I could possibly find where he was buried or if there was a police report about his death. Maybe he was still mad at me and told his sister to lie to me, I thought.
It's been nearly four years since, and what a wild four years it has been.
Rest in Peace.
that's pretty terrible, what you did. I realize you're a professional and able to diagnose schizophrenia but...
>pizza
ah nvm, you did the right thing.
I'm not a professional psychologist. I was in college at the time and I was not a psych major. He was just my friend and when we were communicating that summer, he started talking about things I thought were signs of schizophrenia. He never spoke that way before, so I didn't know what to do, so I wanted someone to call him and see if he was okay, and I gave them his phone number, hoping things would go better.
>he started talking about things I thought were signs of schizophrenia.
such as...?
I'm kind of worried you're using that word in the IQfy sense, where ... "intelligence / having ideas" .... you've decided is mental illness, for some reason.
No. This happened before I started using IQfy, and also before covid.
This is weirdly captivating
I am only a third of the way in and it's getting fricking crazy
Oh wait it loops halfway
I started watching it thinking I was gonna drop the video after a couple minutes and ended seeing the whole thing. It’s fricked up how the toilets always pull some new shit whenever the cameras manage to catch up to them.
I'm really grappling with death lately, I'm just realizing how real and inevitable it is. Currently I'm younger, healthy, and looking forward to building a life and doing things. But I keep looking forward and realizing it's all for nothing, no matter what I know, how serene my mindset, how many great friends I make, eventually I will all end. And if I get old before that I'll have to watch my self degrade and my friends and family die away.
I think we have an instinct to look at the future in this vague kind of way, we just assume that there will always be more chances to talk to people, to go to the ocean etc. Even think of something like a great conversation with friends, or real laughing. Like how many more times do you think you'll be rolling on the floor laughing in your life? because it's a finite number, probably in the 100 times range.
It's freighting and it's hard to forget it now. My grandma would always say "We're all pilgrims to the grave." Damnit I wish we were all immortal, and we could keep learning and building and meeting each other but we're not.
“Gross, I just stepped on a mushroom”
I thought to myself.
“I guess that’s just part of living in the most beautiful place on Earth.
Holy frick am I ever high... this calculator watch is in vogue.
“Atliens is a good album”
I thought to myself while considering getting down.
“Black please”
I thought to myself while being angry.
Meta is the first form of symbolism in coughstep thinking. Coughstep thinking is a formulaic thought process that requires years of mental training and meditation to perfect. It has been proven useful to me for exiting the matrix and leaving newbies in the dust. Leaving newbies in the dirt. That’s where they need to lurk.
I don’t like people who do drugs. The only drugs I take and tolerate (other than the ones prescribed to me) are caffeine and nicotine. That’s a high something or rather. Watch me listen to something new. Because I don’t have very good dexterity when dealing with liberals I tend to murder them philosophically and politically. Gout is something I have like a chronic pain in my chest. That last sentence was for Jesus.
God is good, all the time. In the darkest of moments he walks with me and leads me to the light. I love Jesus.
I wear sixty-four gigabytes of flash storage around my neck. About half of the storage is being used for artificial schizophrenia. Artificial schizophrenia is my own invention. From here forth I will refer to it as “A.S.”
A.S. allows the listener to exit the matrix at their own will. It is a type of audio file, typically formatted as a “.wav” file.
Intense conversation between drums rattle my ears. The drums are sampled from Amen Brother by The Winstons. Amen Brother is the first song I listened to after I found out my wife was pregnant. I played it on a 45rpm vinyl record through my big stereo.
Autumn 2 just came out. I hear it has good reviews, but it isn’t as good as the first Autumn. I don’t care for film much. I don’t really like to watch movies. I’ll let you do the proof reading.
The teacher claimed shot for shot is a violent game. I don’t think it’s a violent game. I think it’s a stress reliever and good bonding experience with fellow boys my age. I’m twenty six. Grand Theft Auto 5 is probably my favourite video game.
My Little Bo-Peep doll fell off my shelf and onto the floor after I accidentally kicked the wall doing my pseudo leg exercises. My leg exercises keep me stimulated while browsing boring content on my phone. There’s a lot of garbage content on social media. I consider ninety percent of it or more to be not worth my time.
Young L is on top of his game. There’s no doubt about that. He’s in the realm of ECCO. I am an ECCO.
I made a beat and posted it to SoundCloud. “flky falcon” I named the track. It’s sub par for my standards.
That’s ice code. I art peace.
Amelda, a maiden fair, had been engaged by the wealthiest man in all the land to maintain his ancestral pile, nestled amongst the craggy peaks of the Carpathians. A daunting task, some might have thought, given the castle's vastness and antiquity; yet Amelda, being a diligent soul, set about her duties with verve and vigour. Her costume, too, added to the challenge: a frothily feminine ensemble comprising a diaphanous chemise and skirt of ivory lawn, adorned with intricately embroidered flora and fauna, along with a pair of brilliantly white cotton drawers trimmed with fine Valenciennes lace. It was a fetching getup, to be sure – but alas! It also happened to be rather brief in the leg department, offering frequent glimpses of her rounded rump and supple thighs as she went about her work.
One morning, as she polished the banister of a broad oak staircase, she failed to notice a massive viper dozing beneath a tattered Persian rug nearby. The serpent, sensing movement above, lunged towards her with lightning speed, enveloping her kneeling frame in a crushing embrace. She let out a piercing scream as the venom began to course through her veins. With each passing second, her vision grew cloudier, her muscles weaker...until at last she succumbed to the creature's paralytic power. And still the great serpent held fast, relishing the warmth of its living burrito.
To make matters worse (if you can imagine), just as Amelda breathed her last, nature called upon her. An enormous dollop of steaming ordure erupted forth from her loins, spilling copiously into her already sodden undies. Oh, the ignominy! For even as life ebbed away, the cruel fate decreed that her dignity should suffer further indignities.
(Continued)
Yet amidst the chaos, there came another presence, drawn to the commotion like a moth to flame. Another occupant of the castle, unknown to Amelda, emerged onto the scene. This figure observed the spectacle with keen interest, taking note of each detail – the heaving bosom, the quivering limbs, the steamy effluvium, and yes, the amply stuffed knickers, their whiteness now sullied by a generous helping of excrement. ...The observer, a young scholar who had come to study the history of the castle, watched in horror as the events unfolded before him. He could hardly believe what he was seeing - a beautiful young woman being suffocated by a snake while defecating in her underwear. But despite his shock, the young man felt an intense curiosity stirring within him. He couldn't help but wonder why such a bizarre tragedy had occurred, and how it fit into the larger narrative of the castle's past.
As he stood there, transfixed by the grisly sight, a strange feeling overtook him. He realized that he was aroused by the scene, not because of any perverse pleasure he took in witnessing Amelda's demise, but because of the primal energy that seemed to radiate from the moment itself. Somehow, amidst the chaos and confusion, there was beauty - or perhaps something more than beauty. Something that spoke to the deepest part of human experience, reminding him of the fragility and uncertainty of existence.
With these thoughts swirling through his mind, the young man approached the remains of the unfortunate housemaid. As he gazed down at her lifeless body, he noticed something peculiar: one of her feet was slightly twisted, almost as if it were trying to escape the confines of death itself. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable among the greater tumult of the scene, but for some reason it struck the observer as profoundly significant.
He reached out to touch the foot, feeling its cool rigidity against his fingertips. As he did so, he heard a faint whisper on the wind, carrying with it the echoes of centuries past. It was the voice of the castle itself, speaking to him across time and space, telling him of secrets long forgotten and truths long hidden.
I turned 21 this week and I am the most depressed I’ve ever been in my life. I’m a failure. I dropped out of college not because I missed 5 tests and consequently my scholarships because I was depressed and drinking all day. I lost all my friends because my housemates spied on me jacking off in my room alone and told everyone I’m bisexual. (I want to frick guys not get fricked so it’s okay) I’m a virgin who has a decent chance of getting laid I guess but I’ll never fully connect with a woman or respect them after how they’ve treated me for the first two decades of my life. I want to die so bad that all I can do not to think about it anymore is read, work, or play vidya. My only cope is that maybe someday a revolution or war will start and I’ll be able to die for something instead of just killing myself. Now I can legally drink myself to death I suppose. I’ve never had much and now I have nothing. That’s life I guess.
Sorry to hear that you're in a dark place. I admit that this is a platitude, but if you're at the bottom of the barrel, you can always climb to the top.
Happen to have any creative outlets?
Black person being 21 is like being 14, nothing is real. Nothing that can happen to you at 21 short of massive life destroying tragedies has any meaning. If my 21 year old brother said this shit I'd take him to a strip club and threaten to run him down with my car if I catch him whining again or developing a fricking drinking problem at 21. Pick up the pieces and move on. Dropping out means nothing. You simply can't destroy your life at 21, you have way too much time. Just go back to college or wait two years and get a different kind of degree or something. I'd literally run you down with my car if I found out you were cultivating an ACTUAL life destroying problem like alcoholism because you pooped your pants and your roommates laughed at you. You and your roommates are 14.
moronic boomer advice. Don't listen to this dipshit.
(Continued)
The young man felt a shiver run down his spine as he listened intently to the ethereal whispers emanating from the very stones of the castle. As he strained to hear every word, he became aware of a strange sensation building inside him - a mixture of fear and excitement, anticipation and trepidation.
And then, suddenly, it hit him. In a flash of insight, the young man understood the true meaning behind the tragic scene before him. He saw the connections between the various elements: the snake symbolizing eternity and rebirth, the messy bowel movements representing the cyclical nature of life and death, the revealing clothing emphasizing the impermanence of physical form, and the youthful vitality of Amelda herself reflecting the fleeting essence of existence. All of these disparate threads woven together in a single tapestry, illuminating a deeper truth beyond mere appearances.
In that instant, the young man knew that he had stumbled upon something extraordinary, a secret encoded within the fabric of reality itself. He felt a surge of inspiration well up within him, a creative force demanding release through artistic expression. Without hesitation, he snatched up a quill pen and paper, eager to commit his revelations to verse.
Thus, in the aftermath of Amelda's untimely demise, surrounded by the ruin of her once-beautiful attire and the lingering stench of excrement and decay, the young scholar gave birth to a masterpiece - a poem unlike any other, a symphony of language capturing the raw intensity of his experience in words that would forever resonate with those who dared to venture into the darkness beyond the surface of things."
As he finished writing, the young man looked around the room, his eyes glowing with the fire of newly awoken genius. And though he knew that the world might never truly understand the depths of his creation, he also knew that he had achieved something remarkable, a feat that would echo throughout the ages, a testament to the enduring spirit of artistry and inquiry that fuels our deepest desires and drives us ever forward.
And thus, in the shadow of Amelda's unfortunate fate, the legacy of her tale lived on, a beacon of hope and possibility, inviting all who dare to enter its realm to confront their own fears and doubts, and rise above them to new heights of understanding and imagination. Fetish is not a sin unless it swallows you whole in the merciless coils of guilt, in which case you become the very dung heap that others' have reserved for those far more sensitive and empathetic than themselves.
Any good books for children? Especially for a daughter.
Captain Underpants. Might be the book that gets boys to read, but she might give it a shot, too, or hate it. Harry Potter is another option.
My 6 year old niece is reading Lotr, she's on The Two Towers, she's also read The Hobbit and the Narnia books. She's going to be way smarter than her parents or me.
The Marvelous Land of Oz
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
The Chronicles of Narnia
The Chronicles of Prydain
The Gammage Cup
The Weirdstone of Brisingamen
The Mad Scientists' Club
A Christmas Carol
The Last Unicorn
The King of Ireland's Son
Earthsea
Rice Boy
The Holy Bible.
---- Solaria ----
0497
Angelic Mills
By now we can agree that one would have to go
Between galaxies to find anything like orcas
Or ourselves, whether or not the moon
And Venus assume
That look of impossible statistics, theatre light beyond
Reason, that reason only understands.
That abstract part of "me" is far too aggravated right now.
>Be Neetche
>BTFO the entire Abrahamic religion in a single aphorism
>If God had wanted to become an object of love, he would first of all have had to to forgo judging and justice:—a judge, and even a gracious judge, is no object of love.
>>If God had wanted to become an object of love, he would first of all have had to to forgo judging and justice:—a judge, and even a gracious judge, is no object of love.
You'd have to be a troglodyte who worships swamp or maternal gods to believe this. Love of the father (dyeus pater) is equivalent to love of justice and the judge. Only men with mother issues worship kindness and love in opposition to justice (guess that explains Neet well enough).
I think a woman is unironically hitting on me at this point.
I'm supposed to be an incel chud how this be happening to me.
---- Solaria ----
0498
Musique Concrete
The best recorded rendering of the overture to the Easter Oratorio
Came to and played in my mind just yesterday.
The only local chick who understands me
Is almost a hundred, and cheerful
Enough to recognize me as I come and go, by luxury car and garden.
There's a little joke I've been meaning to play and finally managed tonight: I shook a hooker's hand goodbye.
She smiled incredulously. I had just nutted in her mouth! and departed with such formality.
The duality of man. A perfect gentleman, a perfect sleazeball I am.
(There's some rhymes in there. It's technically literature.)
I've taken rather a lot of guys home, and never thought about or treated any of them that badly. Some of the had beautiful minds, as well as bodies. I loved all of them.
pls b a gril
Not. My biography wouldn't be complete without descriptions of Chicago's boystown, and a whole lot pertaining to radio broadcasting,
I want to see her again tonight, but might have to settle for her friend
Another lovely young Russian, another $250 to spend
I pay for thirty minutes, but can only last for ten!
But in those minutes is a little heaven
(prostitutes are my muse. I fricking love prostitutes. I've even written a poem in Spanish for a Mexican prostitute.)
How the frick do you find non-ratchet ones for $250? Are you living in 2004? All the escort services I see now say they charge $600 for some fat pig.
$250 is just for head, 30 mins. $400 to frick for 30 mins and $600 for an hour
Thankfully I live near Hollywood and there's a bunch of beautiful Russians that live there. She's also technically a (very bad) masseuse, not an escort, so maybe there's a difference. Never had an escort idk
She was cringe anyway. Dodged a bullet
---- Solaria ----
0499
The Pleiades
Frosty rain, views from summer lawn and second story story windows
Depending on the tine of day.
Binoculars, telescopes, electronic sensors
And some of the most exquisite lenses ever made.
>the greatest trad catholic intellectual of our age is some autistic twitter troony that loves fate (the porn VN) who spouts meaningless word salad and argues in a dishonest, sophistic manner
It's so over for Christcucks.
Trannies genuinely scare the living shit out of me. I find everything about them goddamn terrifying on an existential level. How uncanny they look, how this has been introduced into our lives without any warning, and how deeply deranged and culty they act. I find everything about them completely creepy, almost the perfect personification of a monster from a horror novel
Literal transphobia lel
Yes, and this is exactly like islamophobia and it's perfectly reasonable to be terrified of this
Good, you’ve finally hit the core of society’s revulsion at trannies. The next step is to realize that the “deranged and culty” acts which they commit are horrifying because they are the most unabashed example of what constitutes the core of subjectivity. Man cannot function without society: all of his concepts and actions necessarily take the universal as reference explicitly or not. For example, how would you know a chef from a bartender if you did not already have a framework in which to place them? They are both in food service, both create what you ingest, etc. The only difference between the two is that one works on drink and the other food. Ostensibly this difference stems from food being solid and for nutrition and drink being for intoxication or refreshment. What then of soups? Or food wienertails? (I have seen examples of these in more modern clubs) Or Starbucks drinks with more calories than a meal? Or weed brownies? The overlap between the two can be overlooked because it’s not the core difference between a bartender and a chef. These examples can be considered as outliers because in practice we don’t look at the bartender as a server of drink primarily. He is an agglomeration of thoughts, judgements, emotions, etc always before he is a man in food service. How sweet is the classic picture of the sympathetic bartender, the ear that listens but does not judge. Or the law giving bartender with the shotgun under the counter who does not permit unruliness in his establishment. Or the friendly neighborhood bartender who prides himself on his pub being a second home for his regulars. All these are symbolic nets which the universal (or society) uses to capture individuality not for any malevolent reason, but simply so that these particulars may exist in relation to one another rather than as badly defined roles floating in an incomprehensible void. We know the bartender as a bartender precisely because he is not a chef or a server or a host etc. Where transness comes into this is that it is such a violent imposition of identity on subjectivity that it’s mere brutality cannot be ignored. It is especially distasteful due to its reliance on sexuality (I would go so far as to say rampant hedonism even, transsexuals are among the most depraved sexual animals I know) to situate itself as an identity taking part in the universal. The true horror of transness is not that it will subvert traditional values it is that their mere existence speaks to the subversive nature of the traditional values themselves. A man is not born, he is made. And the millions who turn their head from transsexuals really turn their head from themselves and their inherent lack of ability to self-define. Essentially, they are horrifying in the same way that succubi were to medieval Europeans. Their very existence is predicated on a ravenous sexuality, an explosive overindulgence that mirrors our own pathetic state as determined and unfree beings.
Yeah this is a bit overcooked and all you needed to do was cite Wittgenstein. Moreover I think it pretty clear that untold millions of men, more so than women, fantasize about being young women in the prime of life for a time because their ability to experience sexual pleasure is so much more intense & enduring than it is for men, unless it happens those men are receiving anal sex. So of course this leads to the phenomenon of homosexual men seeking to lure heterosexual men into sex by resembling as closely as possible women, albeit generally retaining their penises. Of course for such "over dedicated" homosexual practitioners everything does more or less center around a particular form of sex, which sensorially is closest to the intensity of sex/arousal commonly experienced by women and prepubescents. Of course all of this has been exploited by clandestine agencies and researchers in order to attack individuals and groups on the left, more than on the right. A society with increasing numbers of egoistic/solipsistic fetishistic male hedonists, especially those converted from artistic, literary, bohemian, and otherwise left leaning demographics, is much more easily controlled by right leaning sectors, than one where both the left and the right are more or less equally matched in lucid, analytical, militant manliness (which as you say is itself an identity that is cultivated and not simply congenital or instinctual).
i think there's plenty of gays already without the need to "lure in heterosexual men", only people who would want that are people who want to think they're irresistable to all or people who want to think they're actually women
They what manly men, "real men," who will treat them like women, not effeminate gays, not even bears who aren't into ciswomen, no this particular type of homosexual dreams of having manly heterosexual men treat them like they would a real woman. This can also coincide with male homosexual prostitutes who prefer straight or bisexual men over other homosexual clientele.
>manly heterosexual men
happy hunting for that, they'll be looking for ages and competing with women
I mean you realize a lot of heterosexual men are into ladyboys and transwomen who can pass?
>heterosexual
>into ladyboys and transwomen
pick one you closet homosexual
>heterosexual
you mean bisexual or closeted.
>how this has been introduced into our lives without any warning
Man are you 17 or something? First troony I encountered was in high school and I'm 31
I’ve done a video on the uncanny valley appearance of them only to get assmad leftist to piss and moan in the comments
When you are attuned to form (all form is an aspect of beauty and vice versa), you find anti-formal forces intuitively hideous, because you unconsciously know that if form/formalness is participating in goodness and beauty (even at its lowest levels, at least to some extent), then anti-form/formalness must be participating in badness and ugliness.
Anything that seeks to obscure forms, to bury or deny the existence of essences, to hide phusis, in short to to deny the miraculous differentiation of the world into a unity in plurality and plurality in unity, to claim that the whole world is simply a globular meaningless pseudo-unity, a night in which all cows are black, is intuitively disgusting to someone whose metaphysical senses are awakened. Conversely, always "go toward" form, always be curious about essences, always meditate on the phusis of a thing. Where difference exists as phenomenon, a phusis is hiding somewhere waiting for a logos to show it forth.
Physiognomy is real and tired of pretenfing its not.
In some senses but I think the acceptance of it will make character traits become less important over time, which by then people will just associate with Patrick Bateman types just because “he looks nice” and never suspect he cooks and eats people behind closed doors. Because you “physiognomy is real”
The other day i was at the post office and there was an old troony there. It was kind of surreal seeing this wrinkled 60 year old man with massive shoulders in high heels and a dress, in deep voice straining to sound womanly asking for his mail.
I feel like everyone is secretly somewhat weirded out by trannies, even if they don't say anything.
I wonder what happens to a person to make them like this.
>I wonder what happens to a person to make them like this.
ever listen to yourself?
Dilate
proper weirdo
---- Solaria ----
0500
General Electric
Rolls Royce makes jet engines about as good.
Weird how imperial systems work.
Or the luck of being anyone in the legacy population of the First World.
I left my small hometown to study abroad and get a fancy job in the city. Over the years, I grew distant from a lot of my relatives, friends and acquaintances.
Leaving and maybe growing up made me realize that I'm an awkward frick who can't handle people at all. I have money and freedom now but I'm so lonely and disconnected.
I like to code and read and stargaze outside the city, but these modest hobbies just don't work any more. I find myself driving and watching people at malls and stuff, it is weirdly comforting. I hope I'm not becoming an old weirdo.
---- Solaria ----
0502
Maximum Theatre
I picture Phil, moping in his room.
His taste in music is wonderful, just as I knew it would be.
Only now I'm starting to realize that my real problem is that I think about problems instead of solving them and I think about problems that don't matter right now. My ex-boss at an old job of mine wasn't that deep and she didn't over complicate, she just constantly did things. I react to my problems like a paralyzing anxiety attack, I think I need to understand something huge, whereas I really just need to do shit. And it's a slippery slope, I constantly fall back into the ruminating thought pattern every few seconds
I hate how nerfed youtube has become with self-censorship. Everyone edits out words they are scared will trip the algorithm and get them demonetized.
I was trying to watch a documentary about a crime but it sounded like the audio was skipping because they had cut out "rape" "murder" "assault" and anything similar.
Fricking free to air TV is less censored these days.
Which is stupid because most people treat a playing ad as an automated process and not in direct connection to the video.
Kek, mom showed me my clingy qt ex's latest instagram status. Her new guy has a pretty ugly mug and mum gloat to my whole family about how she's such a grown up now. Frickers, just say the unspoken to my face. Anyway back to reading.
I don't get it, what is the unspoken here?
Is she doing better than you or what
I fail to grow up
This is gonna sound narcissistic, but there are moments where I realize I have insane potential
I cannot even get into 2D or tulpa gf. The reason is simple - they would reject and leave me if they know the real me.
If you're imaginary gf would reject you, to some extent you enjoy that rejection
why would I enjoy rejection? All I'm saying that she were come to life then game is over.
>why would I enjoy rejection?
How would I know? But if even your fantasies end with rejection there must be something about it that appeals to you. This goes far beyond being "realistic" about one's prospects. After all, even unemployed drug addicts occasionally find love.
>even unemployed drug addicts occasionally find love.
Thanks Lucifer, really needed that rub in. Never let me to forget that Im beneath unemployed drug addicts.
To be fair, it's usually with other drug addicts. All I'm saying is that the "real you" can't possibly be so revolting. Believing that you are unworthy of a loving relationship is a poisonous and self-defeating attitude
>can't possibly be so revolting.
You dont know me. Getting rejected over and over again does say something.
You might enjoy rejection because that makes you the victim and victims get lots of attention.
Not saying it's true, just a possibility.
Nonsense. A fantasy of rejection could be a form of sublimation. We imagine the event to mentally prepare for it or cope with it.
Well it certainly isn't Communist, and indeed it's pretty obvious it's neolib. You're not gaslighting anyone here.
I get it, it's all part of the great game, like countless wouldn't believe.
I regret working at my alma mater.
Me too. NEVER work if you can help it. Piss off someone in the department, even accidentally, and your job is done.
The one advantage of my brief stay working in academia is I earned a day of sick leave, which finally paid off six years later when I worked for the state again.
In January, I told myself I’d have had made a decision and taken action by the end of June. The end of June is here and I haven’t, but not because of laziness. It seems there are just no good moves to make. I am trapped. I feel trapped, trapped in this shitty life.
Go live in the woods. Mushrooms are delicious.
I can’t. I have family I need to consider.
If you're not supporting them it won't be a big deal, and if you are cherish them, work hard on building strong relationships with your family if you don't know how to. Hold your family as the most important thing in the world and work hard to make life better for all of you. You could really even do this as a brother or a son, if you felt so inclined.
What's wrong with you?
What’s wrong with me? Nothing is wrong with me.
You have a family that's worthwhile to consider and you call your life miserable, that's what's wrong with you.
I never said it was miserable. I said it was shitty. And I do think it’s shitty precisely because my family, which I love, deserves much more than I currently offer.
Ayn Rand's name is oddly similiar to popular sentence associated with aliens. Realization of that fact made me reflect on the fact that billionaires are keeping <10 years old children under their basement to humiliate in unimaginable ways for an average human to comprehend
Yeah but when I do the same thing i get tackled to the ground by cops and read my Miranda rights. It’s just so unfair.
God gives and God takes away.
IQfy is good stoicism practice. People being completely moronic yet somehow very smug about it is so common that you have endless opportunities not to react.
This is so true. I remember sometimes writing a reply to someone, then deciding it wasn't worth my time. You, however, are worth replying to because you've made a genuinely good point.
It’s wild how much this civilization abandons you if you’re not a competitive scholar through high school and university. If you are, you have all the opportunities in the world.
Plenty of other area, places, and ways to be established in this society. Check out certain blue collar industries, the military, matters of love (especially when it comes to wooing wealthy women), crime, entrepreneurship (which isn't as risky as people think with bankruptcy and all). You're really just not motivated, is the issue, evident by the fact that you could not be competitive in one of the most handheld easiest portions of life
There’s not though. Senior enlisted in the military will never hold the sort of positions senior commissioned can hold. As for the rest, you can make more or less money. I’m not denying that. But it’s not the same sort of position in life as people with degrees can hold. I myself whole an undergraduate and a graduate degree and I even work at a university, but I just think how this civilization over-values college performance is fricked up. You look at politicians and certain business executives and you realize that their resume really started to pick up steam during and after undergraduate, largely because they received all of these academic opportunities as a result of their grades. They get scholarships, fellowships, jobs, all sorts of things. Even the US Army now cares about grades for commissioning officers, which is crazy. Go to Harvard, be top of your class, the world is your oyster, get fast-tracked to political and corporate prominence. Go to State U, get mediocre grades, well…that’s it. This is how it works.
I've started reading Schopenhauer. I'm reading the Fourfold Root, a third of the way through. It's pretty comfy so far. He bashes earlier and (especially) contemporary philosophers mercilessly, but his criticism feels just. He started defending idealism against materialism now, and though I don't believe him, it's kino. At some point he pompously says the conservation of matter is so certain that it isn't even empirical but known a priori. From my point of view as a physicist that sounds ridiculous of course; "matter" is not conserved at all, it can be created and destroyed as long as (to simplify matters) an equal quantity of antimatter is created or destroyed. But he was a century away from this discovery, and his erroneous affirmation does not seem to affect the argument in any way, so who cares. It's funny to see 19th-century people talking about heat conduction as if heat was a fluid (as he does), or talk about electricity primarily by reference to the fact that some materials acquire a charge when rubbed against each other. If only he had lived to see the incredible other advances the natural sciences were about to unveil... I'm particularly curious of how he would have reacted to quantum mechanical non-separability. Because today, and this is maybe not such a serious challenge for transcendental idealists like him but is so for realists like me, local realism is empirically ruled out, so that any account of realism must be very very strange indeed. Objectivity, for a physicist, is (rather loosely) defined by the agreement of subjective experiences, and objective reality, if such a thing exists, must somehow not be organized in spacetime (because of quantum non-separability), but rather give rise to the spacetime structure; but without spacetime structure there is no way to define causality. So is causality part of reality? Also, somehow there do exist "mutual influences", uncausal, nonlocal, which we call quantum entanglement --- correlations between distant physical systems that cannot exist in a local realist picture of the world. How the hell do transcendental idealists cope with all this?
>it can be created and destroyed as long as (to simplify matters) an equal quantity of antimatter is created or destroyed.
huh?
look up electron-positron pair production for example
Matter is a form of energy and Energy is still conserved in matter-antimatter creation. So he was still right in a way
You're just pushing the question back a step. Anti matter has to come into existence proportional to matter then the total net existence is static
I dont know whats happening. I'm 24 and cant drink anymore. Alcohol just wrecks me now. This is a recent thing. I used to be able to drink like a fish and be fine but now a night of drinking leaves me hungover for 2 days
You are approaching 25, which is the official start of old age. You are becoming a boomer, its natural, fighting it will only bring you embarrassment.
Stop with this shit. Youth worship is normie behavior. It's like people who say their best years were in high school or even college. It's pathetic.
Could be. But to fixate on it to the degree that even a "2D gf" would reject you indicates something more
You simply can't put down alcohol in your mid 20's and beyond like you can in your teens, the only people who pretend otherwise are alcoholics in denial. Nothing about that amounts to youth worship, in fact my post was the opposite and encouraged the guy to not embarrass himself pretending he isn't his age.
What IS normie behaviour is having terrible reading comprehension and running scripts for your personal grievances the second you think you have pattern matched an excuse to do so.
Your liver kidneys and pancreas are b***hmade. Stop drinking or die a slow painful death to cancer and organ failure. You should also drop doing any benzos other than what your gp prescribes you so you dont die from a seizure.
I dont take benzos or anything at all. I'm irish and all my family drinks lifelong.
You tell him, anon. Jordan Peterson needs to hear this.
No group of people has been mindbroken harder by the war in Ukraine than terminally online orthobros.
>russia the based trad savior of christendom is coming to exorcise the evil western liberalism out of (the) ukraine
>10 quotes from saints predicting that russia will become the greatest nation on earth and defeat globohomosexual (no I will not provide sources)
>"xaxaxaxa roast piggies*~~)) dumb hohols will learn their lesson*~~) russia blew the dam and that's BASED" posted 5 minutes after they cried about how the degenerate satanic west forced poor russia to fight a needless war against its christian brother nation and how that evil israelite zelesnky prolongs the suffering of the ukrainian people by not bending over and letting the russians rape his country
>"here's how the UOC is actually the prostitute of Babylon (1/47)"
It's all so tiresome. You'd think SOMEONE would be capable of admitting that as bad as western liberal globohomosexual is, eastern neo-tzarist Soviet LARP with duginist characteristics, aka gulaghomo, is even worse, and latching on to it as some bastion of le trad values and blonde women in wheatfields is a moronic move, especially for someome who makes the Church their whole identity (weirdly enough Ukraine has vastly higher church attendance rates than russia but none of these people ever dare bring that fact up).
I know these people will inevitably move on and become LARPagans or Nick Land worshipers or whatever in a couple years but it's still aggravating. I say this as an admittee orthoLARPer myself.
My bad, didn't mean to reply.
I know you people talk about these sort of orthobros but I’m convinced they don’t exist.
They specifically only exist online.
>I say this as an admittee orthoLARPer myself.
You're just projecting your mental illness thinking this is a real group of people. Seek help.
My gf talks with her friend in the next room and I lay here watching pornography about men having intercourse with wife and another girl and trying not to cum. I wish I could join them. Life is weird sometimes.
It feels like sometimes when I talk to people that I might not always want to actually connect with them in any way but instead have them say things I want them to say, then as soon as they do I feel like I have accomplished something even if I didn't convince them of anything, just the fact that they've repeated what I'm trying to convey means that I've won a small fight. I don't know what this says about me.
What would you title this image?
For me, it's
>The Dichotomy of Man in his Pursuit to Help Others
SNAKES ON A PLANE
I like it when bibles have maps. I like the maps.
My phenomenological experiment worked. I successfully felt the feeling of nostalgia about my present experience.
How?
I mentally placed myself in the future and reflexively looked backwards to the actual present while explicitly thinking about how people in the future would be nostalgic about life in our present by considering the difference in their level of technology versus ours like how people are romantically nostalgic about medieval times by thinking about the comfiness of the architecture and other technology of the time which would mean our current technology is comfy if you're omniscient about it.
What level of technology were you on in this projected future?
I wasn't thinking of any future technology, just the realization of our current technology and architecture.
I've never heard of him. I've always been interested in perspective, how people experience or see the world. It's just from my own thinking over the years.
Have you ever read or listened to this
Sounds a lot like Wilson's attempts to evoke the peak experience manually
I also often think of the peak experience as "present nostalgia." What made you conduct this experiment? Any recommendations?
I'm going on 10 years since I found out I can't have children. I found out I when I was 20 after some unrelated genetic testing. I'm a carrier so I'll live a healthy and fulfilling life but I still feel robbed of something I dreamed about doing since I was a little kid. I know I'm not emotionally capable of loving a step child or an adopted child. I could give said potential children a good life, sure, but I know I would resent them due to my own shit hangups. Hitting 30, the traditional age of "the wall" has really gotten to me lately. I've been drinking a lot lately. My sister is pregnant again, with her fifth child from her third baby daddy, she was lucky enough to not be a carrier of the genetic disease I have. I really love my niblings, I try to be the best aunt I can be to them. The two oldest are starting spend a lot of time at my house, which I really don't mind, but it's just reinforcing the sadness over my loss.
have you tried uncrossing your legs?
I can't stand childfree peoples, I'm against voluntary abortion, and I don't like one night stands. So no, I'm a volcel.
>can't stand childree peoples
NOOOO YOU NEED TO BREED AND CREATE MORE SUFFERING AND HORROR SO THAT YOUR KIDS WAGESLAVE TO PAY TAXES TO PEDOPHILE BILLIONAIRES NOOOOOOOOOO
You know maybe we should make billionaires and pedophilia illegal
>b..but you just can’t do that..ok
How about I remove you?
Remove me from what? Go ahead, get a vasectomy. Please dont breed. You're not good enough for it
I love childfree people. Remove yourself from the gene pool, please and thank you
>life is.... LE GOOD?!??
IQfy is full of moronic subhumans man
So.. you want children but you won't have sex? Maybe the doctor was talking nonsense. It's not like they're particularly intelligent these days (works in medical field).
No I have a genetic disorder that would kill any kids I have, and CRISPr is illegal for now.
Already did.
>a genetic disorder
i.e. Maybe the doctor was speaking nonsense.
It's a pretty serious one that's fairly well researched. Like I had a couple brothers my mom never mentioned until I told her about it serious. I appreciate your concern though.
I mean, you said you "found this out" with a random DNA test by accident; so it's probably nonsense. It's not like contemporary medicine knows anything after all, possibly they've decided; like "depression", that some sequence of DNA predisposes you to this which is a garbage claim.
If I were you I'd try and send the child to a military orphanage if it turn out for the worst. We need our supersoldiers in the near future to kill all of the /misc/tards.
rom. invic.
Adoption is an option. There are plenty of kids out there in need of good homes.
I will never play any multiplayer vidya again
I don't read women, americans, anglos, or israelites.
name your 3 favorite books
Iliad
Odyssey
History of the Peloponnesian War
how's high school?
Giga-based
Women aside, you’d be taking out like a noticeable chunk of worthy literature, poetry and philosophy. But yeah, you do you.
My housemate sets his first alarm for 5:30AM and then hits the snooze button every 10 minutes until he finally gets up at 7AM.
murder him
Boredom and physical pain are the two all encompassing feelings that drive man. Everything you do is just a reaction to this.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
Do you guys still enjoy literature?
If you mean theology, philosophy, and poetry, yes. If you mean novels and genre shit, never did.
Poetry and non-fiction, yes. Novels, not so much unless they’re really escapist fantasy.
I have nothing. no, I don't even have nothing. I don't have.
last weekend me and my friends played our second eldritch-god-themed pen and paper adventure that i wrote. the first was "the secret of the kali yuga" set in india of 1918, where they had to uncover a cult in a british lord's mansion, the second was "the last voyage of the HMS Repulse" set in the indian ocean around 1941, where they had to had to find treasure on an island while escaping the ship and i recently began writing for "the red side of the moon" set in the soviet union of 1987, where they will be cosmonauts that find out, that the zvezda station was actually build on the moon by the russians. it was as always fun for all and everyone praised my writing :>
I wish I could start my life over knowing what I know now. I had no male guidance in my life, no father figure, no older brother, no role model. Nobody ever took an interest in me or my life or what I was doing. Even today, my actual father, whom I didn’t have any relationship with until I was long a man already copes by saying that if he was around to guide me I just wouldn’t have listened. I never had anyone. I never would’ve had anyone. I had to learn everything by myself through reading and through trial and error and also through deep thinking. And I made so many mistakes along the way. And I don’t regret them because I know o had to make mistakes to learn what I learned, but the tragedy of it all is the misspent time. Time is the one thing I’ll never get back.
Life sucks and people who had it better than you will tell you that whining won't fix things. The moment you became a man, you were deprived of the right to complain and designate others for things you had no control of. As time travel doesn't exist, the only path you and me both can take goes forward.
It’s true.
It’s an excuse. They don’t actually know you wouldn’t have listened. It’s their way of coping with their own failures and indifference. I’m my youngest sibling’s senior by 15 years. Even at my age I’m absolutely certain that I have an obligation to not only to offer advice but to set an example, to show not tell. My father wasn’t even in my life. I suppose “you wouldn’t have listened” is the excuse for that too? It’s just cowardice in reality.
i feel that man. my parents use the "you wouldn't have listened" bullshit too. they're right at a certain point i wouldn't have listened because by then i was already raising myself and making terrible decisions, but they could have gave me advice long before i reached that point.
I’m thinking of making a ten minute video rant about Deleuze and his hatred of the mentally ill and why people should stop listening to the inane theories of a guy who killed himself anyways who probably suffered from the same shit he was criticizing.
That was feeling when you're finishing a call and know you have to hang up, but don't want to leave.
I'm stuck in limbo.
I live the reclusive existence of a non-entity. I can't even break out of my addiction to this place.
I want to experience something real, to make me come alive again.
Years have slipped me by without memory.
I want to be a real boy.
I had this degenerate female friend who would go to bars and get fricked by strangers. I had only seen such things in movie so at first I didn't want to believe people like these existed. Needless to say it fricked me up and somewhat reinforced my belief in religion. She was broken in various ways by life and her ex boyfriends, who would 'loan' her body to friends for cash. Her body was just an extension of herself, and ultimately, something she willingly gave to anyone who dared to ask. I myself had the 'chance' to frick her on various occasions but decided not to. It was one of the few times in my life I felt barriers I thought I didn't have. My whole life I would kiss anyone attractive enough but the thought of having sexual intercourse with her filled me with equal amount of arousal and disgust. I wasn't innocent, though, I would jerk off to the thought of her naked body frequently until she left the city.
I pitied her greatly and still do. In some fricked up way, I can understand why she did what she did. She was alone nearly all the time and she would always drink alone in her bedroom on weekends. Fricking strangers and friends alike was probably the only way she knew to communicate with people. It was also probably the only times she felt pleasure, even if I'm not sure if strangers would genuinely care to make her feel anything. Writing this feels like I'm robbing her existence for some heckin IQfy updoots and makes me uncomfortable. There's also a dimension of catharsis to it, as this is probably one of these things I will never tell anyone in my life.
Why did Pound hold troubadour poetry in such high regard?
Why do I have to go into these maniacal/depressed phases of terrible anger about the world? E.G. I just learned that my high school crush started being a hoe in uni and this somehow upsets me as nothing else. I'm not even attracted to her anymore and don't talk to her. But still.. Such terrible grief and anger overwhelmed me when I heard that. She is one of the most innocent woman I know and I guess this is the reason. But I still shouldn't give a frick and this is the incel speaking out of me.
And my body is trying to cope with this by two ways. First, I want to run and punish my body in exercise, but the "philosopher" in me understands this is "animalistic" and then I get this great urge to go and read, write and engage in intellectual pursuits. Why? Because I want to overcome this grief by (brace for cringe) being an "Übermensch" (for a lack of better term). This is great egoism speaking out of me which is kind of contradictory with the more depressed incel side of me.
When I am in this manic egotistical phase I am without care for other humans and pure evil springs out from me. This is very problematic considering my catholic uprbinging that scolds my thinking when that anger leaves me.
So this is my endless cycle one could say it's bipolarism, but I feel it's more to do with not getting pussy, which is my fault only. I can get pussy if I acted like a moron, but these hoes are repulsive to me. I feel ashmed the next day for even approaching or getting their numbers. I scold myself for that behaviour and than, again go into masochistic behaviour of "punishing" my body with exercise or read "le books" until it makes me depressed and somehow profound and intellectual (again this terriblr egoism).
Help me anons.. I'm sick.
I remember very little from the city I lived in for 8 years before moving away. I wonder if this is normal.
do you have aphantasia
No
I'm glad I didn't kill myself this weekend. Nothing really good happened, but I just kind of look around and think that I'm happy to still be here.
i'm happy that you're still around too anon. please take care of yourself
We are all happy you didn’t anon. Keep your chin up.
Lazy rainy Sunday afternoon swim, sort of. Riptides were a bit much and it took 15 or 20 minutes to get back to shore and another 15 or 20 minutes walk up the beach to get home, that quick dip ended up being just shy of an hour. Felt good.
the most IQfy feeling in the world is waking up at 1:30am
it has been 20 years since I last went to bed before 1:30 AM, I generally watch the sunrise before I go to bed.
Bigger fan of 5 am in the summer
It’s especially good right after a rainstorm too
waking up early is all right but it's kind of pedestrian. so is going to bed late, everyone does that. who wakes up a little after midnight? nobody. it only happens a handful of times in your life. it's dream-like.
Lots of people have schedules other than the norm, everyone who works something other than 9-5. There is nothing lit about waking up at an odd hour.
the only things in life that are actually lit are reading books and writing books. everything else is larp.
And even those are not necessarily lit.
if reading is lit, then life must be lit
poetry for example is, indeed, life itself as it is lived at the fullest, distilled into words and experienced through words
that's where you're wrong. it's entirely lit
you experience the world with heightened sensibilities
I'm 23 and just learned what values were. Why don't they teach this in school? It seems important
I am very frustrated that I am in the middle of like 5 books. I stop reading them for a week or two when I’m busy and by the time I can pick them back up again I want to move to something else.
Dark clouds feel like God's blanket.
I love a lot about writing and being a lawyer but I hate the business of both so I don't think I'll ever be happy doing either as a career. What a waste of time!
There’s no sociology thread so I’ll put this here
I think sociology stopped being relevant after they stopped analyzing problems and issues that transcended demographics and started focusing on perceived injustices towards hyper specific individuals
People are really weird sometimes, they think that I care about a bunch of weird shit. Sometimes I wonder if I'm not some kind of whatever crazy person. Because sometimes they act like they will "get me and intimidate me", and I would honestly be more intimidated by an animal or something.
Either that or people are fricking stupid, which I definitely wouldn't rule out. It is not like they I was ever understood by them and that they wouldn't drive me fricking nuts with their bullshit.
My career has turned out to be a little cruel and more than a little ironic.
I regularly call the veteran's crisis line to talk with anonymous people, usually women, about my depression. Today, Amanda asked me to tell her one good thing that happened to me today:
"I went home from the bar with my coworker last night and got a ride downtown this morning. She would have driven me home before going to work but neither of us wanted to get out of bed any earlier. I stopped at a coffee shop for a slice of lemon poppy bread and an iced coffee before stumbling home.
About a block away from home this crow starts calling at me from an oak branch that grew above the sidewalk. It looked silly. The feathers around its throat puffed up like a black clown collar as it rocked back and forth on the bough, throwing its whole body into every caw.
Despite the headache, the thing didn't bother me at all. I thought it was cute. It kept calling after me as i passed under the oak limb and carried on down the sidewalk. It only stopped when it heard the bag of lemon poppy seed bread rustle and I tossed a corner behind me. It fluttered down to the grass to inspect, watching me watch it.
I turned away, giving it the privacy it needed to finally peck at the lemony morsel. I hope it enjoyed breakfast as much as I did."
"Good! Im proud of you." Amanda said. "Next time you're having suicidal thoughts, just think about something good like the hungry crow."
>. It only stopped when it heard the bag of lemon poppy seed bread rustle and I tossed a corner behind me. It fluttered down to the grass to inspect, watching me watch it.
Crows are smart frickers. I can see why they are seen ominously in a lot of mythology . I had a similar experience. I was parked out in a pine forest and this crow flies down onto a post across from my car, I swear staring right at me.
So I get out and take some cereal over, it flies to a nearby branch. I hold my hand high up and drop the cereal and then walk over to the branch. It flies away again so i let drop some more cerral under the branch. Repeat several
Then went back to the car and watched as the crow flew to every spot to accept my offerings.
I have no idea what to do with my life. Didn’t go to college, got fired from my last job for missing work due to health issues, and got a new one but it’s a field I couldn’t care less about, and I basically do next to nothing at work all day and don’t intend on changing it. I’m really lazy, and especially with the type of work it is I can’t be assed to do it. I have. Been dating a girl for 10 years and I’m unsure if I should marry her because she has her own set of issues. Part of me wants to leave my country and drop everything and start over abroad, but I don’t want to do that to people I care about. Although, I’ve spent most of my life living for other people, and not pursuing any of my goals in order to make my parents, girlfriend, friends etc happy. I’m getting older and most of my dreams will soon be just that, dreams. I don’t think I will ever have the life I wanted for myself, the only thing I have right now is I started to exercise frequently.
How old are you?
Not the guy you’re responding to but it must be so nice to afford to travel. I can barely afford to keep food in this house
Do you own the house?
Who even owns their own house nowadays other than boomers?
26
You mentioned you didn’t go to college. Did you want to go to college?
I didn’t at the time, no. I didn’t do well my last two years of high school because of weed and other issues so I just ignored it. I started thinking about going this year, even got in contact with a few schools around me, but I have bills to pay and I just don’t know how I could work full time and go to class, idk if I could handle the stress.
I think you could go if you wanted to. I would recommend going full-time, but part-time is also possible. I’m just a little confused by your post because you start off talking about how lazy you are and how many things you were or are unmotivated to do but then later you mention all of these ambitions you imagine you’ll never achieve. So it’s actually not clear if you have things you want to do in your life or with your life.
I had very lofty ambitions of being a successful musician as a teenager, and I still do sometimes. I make music as a hobby and am able to pull money in from it, but I’ll make entire releases and just never put them out, I don’t know why I do this. I thought about going to school for a degree in anything from history to supply chain management. I tend to just throw whatever at the wall and see if it sticks, because honestly I don’t know what I can realistically be arsed to do and feel like I’m not wasting my time. I put myself in a very frustrating situation by being unable to just decide a way forward. I’m sorry if that was a ramble, I’m just very confused and tired, and am venting my problems on lit lmao.
I think you should decide what it is you want from your life and go for that. Life is too short to do otherwise. You may not realize it at 26, but at 36 you will.
I wish I had someone I could go to for advice.
im a brainlet and even i know the coup wasn't actually a coup but then also what the frick is this interview then https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BRY6deCJ-Bc&t=8s&ab_channel=BloombergTelevision
you're telling me putin is this good of an actor ??
anyone wanna bet how long it takes that wagner guy to accidentally fall out a window?
FSB will just cooperate with the hohols to launch a missile at him or fry him with a flamethrower. Same shit they did to Motorola and Givi.
I’d be curious to know how good the translation is here, but even if it’s not I think so called “coup” can be understood as less Catiline and more Spartacus. That Putin commented on it means basically nothing.
Humidity is nice. Makes me feel like im in a jungle.
homosapiens' nostalgia for the jungle
RUNNING
OUT
OF
TIME
Watch Lodge 49.
Politics and aesthetics are inseparably linked, taste can never be non-political.
I'm apolitical.
no you're not. read Aristotle
states don't exist in nature
It's kind of impressive how many famous spaniards or colonial hispanics were actually conversos.
I've been sexually abused twice in my life, it led me to be hypersexual when I was young, still now.
I never told anyone, when I walked in on my brother fricking my babysitter once. I was a good sport and kept quiet about it for a lot of years. About this, I never told anyone.
One was by this older guy, I don't remember my age but it had to do with my swimming classes, there was a building where people would change and a very tight gap below this building, on the outside. I was there and this guy was rubbing my genitals and just touching my chest.
The other one was a quick thing where a girl, 17, I think I was 11 or 12, I don't think about the past that much incited me to play with her boobs and a gave me a kiss.
What do I do with this information? I forget and remember thede two things on and off.
I think I was a bit older on the second one
I’ve know people who went through similar stuff. You should go to a therapist at least, they’re probably better prepared to help you with that stuff. From what I observed, trying to repress/deny your memories will frick you up and being hypersexual was psychologically damaging to the people I knew, besides putting them into bad situations a lot of times. All of them had a history of dating abusive people, so keep one eye out for that. And for fricks sake, stay away from drugs and alcohol. Most of them had problems with substance abuse that indirectly led them to going through other traumatic experiences.
>what do i do with this information?
accept that it happened and learn to live with it pretty much
>it led me to be hypersexual
enjoy dating spineless cucks that think that it is empowering to be cheated on
My friend killed themselves and I feel nothing. I don't mean it makes me feel empty and like the world is hollower than before, im just indifferent to it and things keep moving as they were. This itself should be a feeling to reflect on but I don't even feel anything significant in relation to that. I know it must seem like I do since I post about it, but I don't, I just feel like I should feel bad for feeling this way as if I want to be called a horrible person for it so my brain will be pressured into emotions again.
You remind me of people who feel guilty/worried about intrusive thoughts. He was your friend anon. Going out of your way to post about it on a Laotian Fishmongering forum shows that you cared about the guy. Not feeling sad doesn’t make your friendship any less true. Personally, I feel sad about death in an abstract way. It just doesn’t seem fair that all those decades, all that unique sum of moments and actions and thoughts and feelings that constituted someone should just evaporate in a moment. Disappearing as if they had never been there on the first place.
The death that affected me the most was my cousin’s earlier this year. I’ve never met anyone who embraced life as much as he did. It feels unfair that people going through the motions can easily reach old age just spinning around in circles and living a dull and grey life while someone who was so passionate about life and the world, who constantly faced down his fears and doubts and appreciated every moment while seeing joy and beauty even in the simplest things was denied that. Dying young and without even having the chance to see his kids grow. Sometimes I think he’ll just suddenly reappear. That’s how surreal it feels to know he’s dead.
I wish we didn’t have to die.
your friend was done with their run and decided to quit early, why should you force yourself to feel bad about that if you can understand that sometimes life can be unbearably shit? be glad you don't feel anything, some toddlers might feel bad enough to join them in death because they're co-dependent
Learn how to reply properly, you'll have a better time on this site.
I guess because If I don't feel anything significant from such a significant event (they were in the top 3 people I have ever conversed with in terms of quantity) then it's as if my own life will never be 'real', I'll just be a robotic observer. I've always struggled with derealisation and depersonalisation and it was part of what I shared with this person. There is a certain type of irony that they are bringing mine back to light with their own death largely influenced by the 'afflictions'
i don't feel like giving (you)'s to a pity party boy who wants to be the victim when their friend commits a suicide or who want to use their past trauma as a excuse to be a complete degenerate
One of the few ways sub continentals have to frick with the west is to unironically larp as a spiritual guru and say some moronic mumbo-jumbo about the buddha kundalini astral forces. They can get fricking rich that way.
You don't even have to be Hindu. With enough lack of belief and scruples, a Pakistani could pull this shit off.
I wish I was smart enough to pull off a new-age grift.
God, I wish I was a good snake charmer.
go to therapy if you have derealisation and depersonalisation
Sometime ago I discovered that I’m related to a locally famous buddhist grifter. Feels weird. Sometimes I think about visiting his temple. He’s not a pajeet btw, just a convert who goes around spewing new age platitudes.
Some of the best religious grifters aren't even from the cultures they're pantomiming. They're just random white people. What ends up being the selling point is usually the promises of secret knowledge rather than anything else.
Afaik he doesn’t even promise secret knowledge, just goes around saying “feel good” things about life, which I guess appeals to this new-age atheistic/hedonistic/pagan syncretistic sensibilities that all “buddhists” I met seem to carry.
do people ever get to the top of a mountain and not feel anything?
my distaste for white guys who LARP as Black folk is stronger than ever
What advice would you give to someone that dislikes who they became and thinks it’s too late to become someone else?
Quit being a self-pitying fool and do something
Moving back in with mom at nearly thirty years old is easily one of the top 10 regrets of my entire life. I should own a house by now and she should be living with me, if anything.
> 28/29
> not too late
> 30/31
> too late
I like the position some of these Orthodox Christians have that state clearly that there is no explicitly political solution because man’s problem is his heart and not explicitly political. I agree with them that this desperate desire for a political solution is a post-enlightenment yearning. I’d go further though and make clear that there’s no political solution in a post-aristocratic era. It’s not a matter of right blood or hereditary power, but orientations. Politics without dignity is not politics, and in so far as politics is subordinated to social and economic concerns with a technocratic angle, real politics is off the table and thus nothing positive can happen. I think Junger was trying to get at something like this regarding his relationship to politics and what constitutes politics today. I think there’s a lot more to that author than I previously thought.
What do you think about graduate theology and philosophy programs? I think I want to pursue one of these two fields, and I have a bunch of hangouts but probably foremost is that I don’t know which one, if either, would be worthwhile.
I should have become a priest.