Anonymous
6/29/2025, 3:03:20 PM No.33290462
>Be me, childhood was nightmare hellhole
>No father figure, grew up with abusive mother
>at 17 I meet a girl, were each others first relationships
>shes perfect: self-reliant but loyal, driven but not egocentric, confident but not arrogant, smart, 10/10
>date for 8 months, a lifetime when you’re 17
>mother finds out
>somehow obtains her phone number
>harasses her, gf is unable to deal with this
>eventually leaves me (understandably i guess)
>ffw college, move from tank to aquarium so to speak, lots of fish
>upbringing had sheltered me from reality that the fish are infected with parasites
>horrified as women go to parties naked, make out with strangers, rack up 20 bodies in a week, suck dick in public
>when they not publicly naked they form loud obnoxious flocks, talk in tongues in a language I do not understand
>conversations are frivolous or repulsively sexual
>monkey cavemen from 50000 yrs ago probably had conversations more substantive
I’m now 25 years old. I’ve come to harbor a contempt for all women who aren’t her. It’s a visceral, primal disgust—a revulsion not of the flesh, but of the soul, the kind of moral nausea one feels watching a middle-aged Indian man molest a child.
They’re not people, they’re feral creatures draped in human skin, stumbling through life with vacant eyes and a hunger only for ruin. Lacking nearly every quality that sets humans apart from beasts—empathy, self-respect, morality—yet they shriek their demands to be treated as equals.
I loathe what I’ve become, how deep this bitterness has rooted itself. But there is nothing left to be done. There is no hope for me now, no chance of reclaiming something as intimate, as unspoiled, as pure, as what I, what we, once had.
And yet, I’m not sad about this realization anymore, simply resigned, fatigued, defeated. This is the shape of my life now and I suppose I’ll carry it, alone, until the end. Anons, I think I’m completely, unequivocally, irreversibly cooked.
>No father figure, grew up with abusive mother
>at 17 I meet a girl, were each others first relationships
>shes perfect: self-reliant but loyal, driven but not egocentric, confident but not arrogant, smart, 10/10
>date for 8 months, a lifetime when you’re 17
>mother finds out
>somehow obtains her phone number
>harasses her, gf is unable to deal with this
>eventually leaves me (understandably i guess)
>ffw college, move from tank to aquarium so to speak, lots of fish
>upbringing had sheltered me from reality that the fish are infected with parasites
>horrified as women go to parties naked, make out with strangers, rack up 20 bodies in a week, suck dick in public
>when they not publicly naked they form loud obnoxious flocks, talk in tongues in a language I do not understand
>conversations are frivolous or repulsively sexual
>monkey cavemen from 50000 yrs ago probably had conversations more substantive
I’m now 25 years old. I’ve come to harbor a contempt for all women who aren’t her. It’s a visceral, primal disgust—a revulsion not of the flesh, but of the soul, the kind of moral nausea one feels watching a middle-aged Indian man molest a child.
They’re not people, they’re feral creatures draped in human skin, stumbling through life with vacant eyes and a hunger only for ruin. Lacking nearly every quality that sets humans apart from beasts—empathy, self-respect, morality—yet they shriek their demands to be treated as equals.
I loathe what I’ve become, how deep this bitterness has rooted itself. But there is nothing left to be done. There is no hope for me now, no chance of reclaiming something as intimate, as unspoiled, as pure, as what I, what we, once had.
And yet, I’m not sad about this realization anymore, simply resigned, fatigued, defeated. This is the shape of my life now and I suppose I’ll carry it, alone, until the end. Anons, I think I’m completely, unequivocally, irreversibly cooked.
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