Final Rant

TikiXVI

TikiXVI

Iron
Joined
Dec 24, 2023
Posts
202
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I’m at a crossroads of a path I’ve been traveling since I was born and I don’t know the right direction to go. Every single day that I continue to carve out an existence on this planet I continue to see the error in my birth. My birth mom died, my father wasn’t able to raise me, my adoptive and true mom has gotten cancer and yet I still feel as if I’ve had the most misfortune. My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness. It has been encroaching on everything I hold dear since the day I was conceived and it’s only been exacerbated as I’ve grown up. I yearn for the companionship I so desperately feel I deserve yet I also know deep down that this just won’t happen. At one point I was ugly, I fixed it. I wasn’t a “stand up guy,” now I am. Every problem someone’s told me I have I’d try to fix or resolve in one way or another and it was all to foster a better base in which I could be loved. Every second I’m around one of countless friends who has a girlfriend i feel a crimson blaze from the pits of my being. Their visage, countenance and personalities should have gotten them nowhere yet they all have found happiness in another person. One of my closest friends has even found a way to manage being in two different romantic relationships at once. Every time I look at his shit maxilla, rhino chin, inward gonions peanut skull, recessed mandible face I get disgusted. This disgust has been evolving and brewing from simple jealousy to levels reaching that of hatred. I would do anything do for the guy but at the same time, I want to see him as lonely as I’ve been forced to be. When i think about this side of my brain, this dark passenger who I’m forced to travel with, my self hatred grows. When you compound feelings akin to mine with the tragedy of my past, the isolation of my present and the unknown nature of my future, you get a 16 year old who wonders if his life is even worth living. It’s a cliche, a trope of sorts, to want to kill yourself. It’s been glamorized, proped up and ran through thousands of times by all sorts of different types of naive people. If I know this, then why do my dark feelings only increase? Why am I forced to be an accomplice on downfall of my own life? Why am I the executioner dropping the guillotine on my own neck ? I have one body, one soul and one mind yet in it I feel like i no longer belong. Maybe someone could live as me and accomplish all the things I’ve strived for, but this thought only makes my existence more flawed. If the problem is me and my body is just the middleman, cutting off the middleman would get rid of the problem altogether. Whichever way I look at it, there is no getting better. Even as a lie in bed ranting about my own demise I realize how bad things have gotten. If and when I finally release these thoughts I’ll probably be going through worse or maybe I’ll be in a fleeting period of positivity which i will inevitably topple throng one method of self sabotage or another. I am the problem, through all of my struggles that is clear. Every single man in my life who has the capacity for love should enjoy it, even if it means I may be unhappy. why can’t I just be what I know I should be? Why can’t people see the man that I truly am instead of the man that everyone hears about? Why can’t I just be loved by a stranger waiting to be a companion? Why can’t I like myself? Why can’t I stop being like this? Why do I continue to carry on knowing that nothing will never change? Why continue when there’s nothing more appealing than to stop? When am I ready for my story to end?
 
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Dogshit formatting. People won't read it unless you separate it into paragraphs. But I shall read it anyway in its current format.
 
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i actually read the entire thing and just know i love you bhai ❤️ i hope you get through everything you’re going through and come out better.
 
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Ok, just read it. Don't rope bhai, you're far too young and you're already thinking of giving up? I know what you're going through -- I've been going through the same thing, except I'm 28 and I'm actually unattractive. I got a good 12 years on you, so you shouldn't despair. There are plenty of people who don't find love until they're in early 20s. If you're not unattractive, then you will be fine. Maybe not right now but someday. Just don't give up. You got this, my friend.
 
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love u tiki ❤️
 
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I’m at a crossroads of a path I’ve been traveling since I was born and I don’t know the right direction to go. Every single day that I continue to carve out an existence on this planet I continue to see the error in my birth. My birth mom died, my father wasn’t able to raise me, my adoptive and true mom has gotten cancer and yet I still feel as if I’ve had the most misfortune. My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness. It has been encroaching on everything I hold dear since the day I was conceived and it’s only been exacerbated as I’ve grown up. I yearn for the companionship I so desperately feel I deserve yet I also know deep down that this just won’t happen. At one point I was ugly, I fixed it. I wasn’t a “stand up guy,” now I am. Every problem someone’s told me I have I’d try to fix or resolve in one way or another and it was all to foster a better base in which I could be loved. Every second I’m around one of countless friends who has a girlfriend i feel a crimson blaze from the pits of my being. Their visage, countenance and personalities should have gotten them nowhere yet they all have found happiness in another person. One of my closest friends has even found a way to manage being in two different romantic relationships at once. Every time I look at his shit maxilla, rhino chin, inward gonions peanut skull, recessed mandible face I get disgusted. This disgust has been evolving and brewing from simple jealousy to levels reaching that of hatred. I would do anything do for the guy but at the same time, I want to see him as lonely as I’ve been forced to be. When i think about this side of my brain, this dark passenger who I’m forced to travel with, my self hatred grows. When you compound feelings akin to mine with the tragedy of my past, the isolation of my present and the unknown nature of my future, you get a 16 year old who wonders if his life is even worth living. It’s a cliche, a trope of sorts, to want to kill yourself. It’s been glamorized, proped up and ran through thousands of times by all sorts of different types of naive people. If I know this, then why do my dark feelings only increase? Why am I forced to be an accomplice on downfall of my own life? Why am I the executioner dropping the guillotine on my own neck ? I have one body, one soul and one mind yet in it I feel like i no longer belong. Maybe someone could live as me and accomplish all the things I’ve strived for, but this thought only makes my existence more flawed. If the problem is me and my body is just the middleman, cutting off the middleman would get rid of the problem altogether. Whichever way I look at it, there is no getting better. Even as a lie in bed ranting about my own demise I realize how bad things have gotten. If and when I finally release these thoughts I’ll probably be going through worse or maybe I’ll be in a fleeting period of positivity which i will inevitably topple throng one method of self sabotage or another. I am the problem, through all of my struggles that is clear. Every single man in my life who has the capacity for love should enjoy it, even if it means I may be unhappy. why can’t I just be what I know I should be? Why can’t people see the man that I truly am instead of the man that everyone hears about? Why can’t I just be loved by a stranger waiting to be a companion? Why can’t I like myself? Why can’t I stop being like this? Why do I continue to carry on knowing that nothing will never change? Why continue when there’s nothing more appealing than to stop? When am I ready for my story to end?
 
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TL;DR? :popcorn:
 
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I’m at a crossroads of a path I’ve been traveling since I was born and I don’t know the right direction to go. Every single day that I continue to carve out an existence on this planet I continue to see the error in my birth. My birth mom died, my father wasn’t able to raise me, my adoptive and true mom has gotten cancer and yet I still feel as if I’ve had the most misfortune. My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness. It has been encroaching on everything I hold dear since the day I was conceived and it’s only been exacerbated as I’ve grown up. I yearn for the companionship I so desperately feel I deserve yet I also know deep down that this just won’t happen. At one point I was ugly, I fixed it. I wasn’t a “stand up guy,” now I am. Every problem someone’s told me I have I’d try to fix or resolve in one way or another and it was all to foster a better base in which I could be loved. Every second I’m around one of countless friends who has a girlfriend i feel a crimson blaze from the pits of my being. Their visage, countenance and personalities should have gotten them nowhere yet they all have found happiness in another person. One of my closest friends has even found a way to manage being in two different romantic relationships at once. Every time I look at his shit maxilla, rhino chin, inward gonions peanut skull, recessed mandible face I get disgusted. This disgust has been evolving and brewing from simple jealousy to levels reaching that of hatred. I would do anything do for the guy but at the same time, I want to see him as lonely as I’ve been forced to be. When i think about this side of my brain, this dark passenger who I’m forced to travel with, my self hatred grows. When you compound feelings akin to mine with the tragedy of my past, the isolation of my present and the unknown nature of my future, you get a 16 year old who wonders if his life is even worth living. It’s a cliche, a trope of sorts, to want to kill yourself. It’s been glamorized, proped up and ran through thousands of times by all sorts of different types of naive people. If I know this, then why do my dark feelings only increase? Why am I forced to be an accomplice on downfall of my own life? Why am I the executioner dropping the guillotine on my own neck ? I have one body, one soul and one mind yet in it I feel like i no longer belong. Maybe someone could live as me and accomplish all the things I’ve strived for, but this thought only makes my existence more flawed. If the problem is me and my body is just the middleman, cutting off the middleman would get rid of the problem altogether. Whichever way I look at it, there is no getting better. Even as a lie in bed ranting about my own demise I realize how bad things have gotten. If and when I finally release these thoughts I’ll probably be going through worse or maybe I’ll be in a fleeting period of positivity which i will inevitably topple throng one method of self sabotage or another. I am the problem, through all of my struggles that is clear. Every single man in my life who has the capacity for love should enjoy it, even if it means I may be unhappy. why can’t I just be what I know I should be? Why can’t people see the man that I truly am instead of the man that everyone hears about? Why can’t I just be loved by a stranger waiting to be a companion? Why can’t I like myself? Why can’t I stop being like this? Why do I continue to carry on knowing that nothing will never change? Why continue when there’s nothing more appealing than to stop? When am I ready for my story to end?
Dnr but looking at the replies it seems pretty sad,I hope u get better,don’t give up tho , prove the doubters wrong and fuck their oneitis r😜
 
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The author reflects on a life filled with tragedy and loneliness, feeling inadequate despite efforts to improve. They envy friends' happiness and contemplate suicide, feeling like an accomplice in their own downfall. They question their worth, longing for love and acceptance, yet unable to escape self-hatred. The struggle with their identity and purpose intensifies, leaving them uncertain about the future and whether life is worth living.
 
I’m at a crossroads of a path I’ve been traveling since I was born and I don’t know the right direction to go. Every single day that I continue to carve out an existence on this planet I continue to see the error in my birth. My birth mom died, my father wasn’t able to raise me, my adoptive and true mom has gotten cancer and yet I still feel as if I’ve had the most misfortune. My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness. It has been encroaching on everything I hold dear since the day I was conceived and it’s only been exacerbated as I’ve grown up. I yearn for the companionship I so desperately feel I deserve yet I also know deep down that this just won’t happen. At one point I was ugly, I fixed it. I wasn’t a “stand up guy,” now I am. Every problem someone’s told me I have I’d try to fix or resolve in one way or another and it was all to foster a better base in which I could be loved. Every second I’m around one of countless friends who has a girlfriend i feel a crimson blaze from the pits of my being. Their visage, countenance and personalities should have gotten them nowhere yet they all have found happiness in another person. One of my closest friends has even found a way to manage being in two different romantic relationships at once. Every time I look at his shit maxilla, rhino chin, inward gonions peanut skull, recessed mandible face I get disgusted. This disgust has been evolving and brewing from simple jealousy to levels reaching that of hatred. I would do anything do for the guy but at the same time, I want to see him as lonely as I’ve been forced to be. When i think about this side of my brain, this dark passenger who I’m forced to travel with, my self hatred grows. When you compound feelings akin to mine with the tragedy of my past, the isolation of my present and the unknown nature of my future, you get a 16 year old who wonders if his life is even worth living. It’s a cliche, a trope of sorts, to want to kill yourself. It’s been glamorized, proped up and ran through thousands of times by all sorts of different types of naive people. If I know this, then why do my dark feelings only increase? Why am I forced to be an accomplice on downfall of my own life? Why am I the executioner dropping the guillotine on my own neck ? I have one body, one soul and one mind yet in it I feel like i no longer belong. Maybe someone could live as me and accomplish all the things I’ve strived for, but this thought only makes my existence more flawed. If the problem is me and my body is just the middleman, cutting off the middleman would get rid of the problem altogether. Whichever way I look at it, there is no getting better. Even as a lie in bed ranting about my own demise I realize how bad things have gotten. If and when I finally release these thoughts I’ll probably be going through worse or maybe I’ll be in a fleeting period of positivity which i will inevitably topple throng one method of self sabotage or another. I am the problem, through all of my struggles that is clear. Every single man in my life who has the capacity for love should enjoy it, even if it means I may be unhappy. why can’t I just be what I know I should be? Why can’t people see the man that I truly am instead of the man that everyone hears about? Why can’t I just be loved by a stranger waiting to be a companion? Why can’t I like myself? Why can’t I stop being like this? Why do I continue to carry on knowing that nothing will never change? Why continue when there’s nothing more appealing than to stop? When am I ready for my story to end?
Greycel dnr
 
DNR
Image 31
 
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My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness.
No. There are much worse aliments than loneliness.
 
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I’m at a crossroads of a path I’ve been traveling since I was born and I don’t know the right direction to go. Every single day that I continue to carve out an existence on this planet I continue to see the error in my birth. My birth mom died, my father wasn’t able to raise me, my adoptive and true mom has gotten cancer and yet I still feel as if I’ve had the most misfortune. My life has been plagued with the most crippling disease of them all, loneliness. It has been encroaching on everything I hold dear since the day I was conceived and it’s only been exacerbated as I’ve grown up. I yearn for the companionship I so desperately feel I deserve yet I also know deep down that this just won’t happen. At one point I was ugly, I fixed it. I wasn’t a “stand up guy,” now I am. Every problem someone’s told me I have I’d try to fix or resolve in one way or another and it was all to foster a better base in which I could be loved. Every second I’m around one of countless friends who has a girlfriend i feel a crimson blaze from the pits of my being. Their visage, countenance and personalities should have gotten them nowhere yet they all have found happiness in another person. One of my closest friends has even found a way to manage being in two different romantic relationships at once. Every time I look at his shit maxilla, rhino chin, inward gonions peanut skull, recessed mandible face I get disgusted. This disgust has been evolving and brewing from simple jealousy to levels reaching that of hatred. I would do anything do for the guy but at the same time, I want to see him as lonely as I’ve been forced to be. When i think about this side of my brain, this dark passenger who I’m forced to travel with, my self hatred grows. When you compound feelings akin to mine with the tragedy of my past, the isolation of my present and the unknown nature of my future, you get a 16 year old who wonders if his life is even worth living. It’s a cliche, a trope of sorts, to want to kill yourself. It’s been glamorized, proped up and ran through thousands of times by all sorts of different types of naive people. If I know this, then why do my dark feelings only increase? Why am I forced to be an accomplice on downfall of my own life? Why am I the executioner dropping the guillotine on my own neck ? I have one body, one soul and one mind yet in it I feel like i no longer belong. Maybe someone could live as me and accomplish all the things I’ve strived for, but this thought only makes my existence more flawed. If the problem is me and my body is just the middleman, cutting off the middleman would get rid of the problem altogether. Whichever way I look at it, there is no getting better. Even as a lie in bed ranting about my own demise I realize how bad things have gotten. If and when I finally release these thoughts I’ll probably be going through worse or maybe I’ll be in a fleeting period of positivity which i will inevitably topple throng one method of self sabotage or another. I am the problem, through all of my struggles that is clear. Every single man in my life who has the capacity for love should enjoy it, even if it means I may be unhappy. why can’t I just be what I know I should be? Why can’t people see the man that I truly am instead of the man that everyone hears about? Why can’t I just be loved by a stranger waiting to be a companion? Why can’t I like myself? Why can’t I stop being like this? Why do I continue to carry on knowing that nothing will never change? Why continue when there’s nothing more appealing than to stop? When am I ready for my story to end?
yeah DNR DNR DNR DNR dnr DNR DNR DNR nd n rn n n n nd f d nn dn rn ndr NDN
 

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