Had a school trip today. One of, if not, the last.

O

omnilegent

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Everyone around me was laughing, taking pictures, and creating memories they’ll probably talk about for years. Meanwhile, I was glued to my phone, listening to InkwellTV archives and zoning out, analyzing random faces and heights like it’s some kind of obsession I can’t escape. Every detail I notice feels like a dagger, reminding me of what I’m not.

I didn’t feel like I was part of this trip. I felt like I was watching it from the outside, a ghost standing among the living.

This was probably my last school trip. I’m in 11th grade, and let’s be honest, there’s no way our homeroom teacher will plan another one next year. Everyone will be too focused on finals, trying to figure out the rest of their lives. So this was it. My last chance to experience something I’ll never get back, and I wasted it.

It’s brutal when it hits you.

I’ll never find this time again.

I’ll never be this young again.

What really stings is that they were making memories, real ones.

Laughing, talking, taking pictures that will outlive the moment. Those pictures will remind them of how it felt to be young, alive, and connected.

And me? I’ll remember sitting in the corner, alone with my thoughts, spiraling into the same loop of comparison and self-hate that’s been eating away at me for years.

The only "memory" I will have of this day will be of me writing this thread in the train, on the way home.

I wasn’t just missing out on a trip.

I was missing out on being part of something, part of life itself. And the worst part is, I know I’ll never get that time back. No matter what happens in the future, no amount of success, no plastic surgeries, no "ascension" will ever fill the gap in my soul.

Because the truth is, I let these moments slip through my fingers. And now I have to live with that.
 
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I was missing out on being part of something, part of life itself. And the worst part is, I know I’ll never get that time back. No matter what happens in the future, no amount of success, no plastic surgeries, no "ascension" will ever fill the gap in my soul.

Because the truth is, I let these moments slip through my fingers. And now I have to live with that.
I felt the exact same way word for word after I graduated. There was no grand catalyst that would rush me forward into the folds of society. I was praying on tomorrow to come and when it finally did, I wished that I could have just one yesterday back. All my efforts to improve were futile, I didn't excel in anything while others managed to have everything so easily.

You still have 1 year left, try to make the best of it
 
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Everyone around me was laughing, taking pictures, and creating memories they’ll probably talk about for years. Meanwhile, I was glued to my phone, listening to InkwellTV archives and zoning out, analyzing random faces and heights like it’s some kind of obsession I can’t escape. Every detail I notice feels like a dagger, reminding me of what I’m not.

I didn’t feel like I was part of this trip. I felt like I was watching it from the outside, a ghost standing among the living.

This was probably my last school trip. I’m in 11th grade, and let’s be honest, there’s no way our homeroom teacher will plan another one next year. Everyone will be too focused on finals, trying to figure out the rest of their lives. So this was it. My last chance to experience something I’ll never get back, and I wasted it.

It’s brutal when it hits you.

I’ll never find this time again.

I’ll never be this young again.

What really stings is that they were making memories, real ones.

Laughing, talking, taking pictures that will outlive the moment. Those pictures will remind them of how it felt to be young, alive, and connected.

And me? I’ll remember sitting in the corner, alone with my thoughts, spiraling into the same loop of comparison and self-hate that’s been eating away at me for years.

The only "memory" I will have of this day will be of me writing this thread in the train, on the way home.

I wasn’t just missing out on a trip.

I was missing out on being part of something, part of life itself. And the worst part is, I know I’ll never get that time back. No matter what happens in the future, no amount of success, no plastic surgeries, no "ascension" will ever fill the gap in my soul.

Because the truth is, I let these moments slip through my fingers. And now I have to live with that.
i never wanted friends or highschool memories, good riddance to the pigs.
 
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All my efforts to improve were futile, I didn't excel in anything whiles others managed to have everything so easily.
Life is all about opportunities. A single connection gets you further away than any college degree.

But, the only way to get such connections is socialising, one thing we incels do not excel at.

I don't think it's our fault however, we were conditioned to be like this. Our behavior is the effect of years of isolation and unnoticed trauma.

Never began.
 
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Everyone around me was laughing, taking pictures, and creating memories they’ll probably talk about for years. Meanwhile, I was glued to my phone, listening to InkwellTV archives and zoning out, analyzing random faces and heights like it’s some kind of obsession I can’t escape. Every detail I notice feels like a dagger, reminding me of what I’m not.

I didn’t feel like I was part of this trip. I felt like I was watching it from the outside, a ghost standing among the living.

This was probably my last school trip. I’m in 11th grade, and let’s be honest, there’s no way our homeroom teacher will plan another one next year. Everyone will be too focused on finals, trying to figure out the rest of their lives. So this was it. My last chance to experience something I’ll never get back, and I wasted it.

It’s brutal when it hits you.

I’ll never find this time again.

I’ll never be this young again.

What really stings is that they were making memories, real ones.

Laughing, talking, taking pictures that will outlive the moment. Those pictures will remind them of how it felt to be young, alive, and connected.

And me? I’ll remember sitting in the corner, alone with my thoughts, spiraling into the same loop of comparison and self-hate that’s been eating away at me for years.

The only "memory" I will have of this day will be of me writing this thread in the train, on the way home.

I wasn’t just missing out on a trip.

I was missing out on being part of something, part of life itself. And the worst part is, I know I’ll never get that time back. No matter what happens in the future, no amount of success, no plastic surgeries, no "ascension" will ever fill the gap in my soul.

Because the truth is, I let these moments slip through my fingers. And now I have to live with that.
lit me
 
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1734635940705
 
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Bump I spent 7 hours writing this
 
It’s so brutal to not be normal man. To never be a fully natural human. You’ll always be an outsider , looking in / pretending :feelswah:
 
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autism hits hard
 
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Everyone around me was laughing, taking pictures, and creating memories they’ll probably talk about for years. Meanwhile, I was glued to my phone, listening to InkwellTV archives and zoning out, analyzing random faces and heights like it’s some kind of obsession I can’t escape. Every detail I notice feels like a dagger, reminding me of what I’m not.

I didn’t feel like I was part of this trip. I felt like I was watching it from the outside, a ghost standing among the living.

This was probably my last school trip. I’m in 11th grade, and let’s be honest, there’s no way our homeroom teacher will plan another one next year. Everyone will be too focused on finals, trying to figure out the rest of their lives. So this was it. My last chance to experience something I’ll never get back, and I wasted it.

It’s brutal when it hits you.

I’ll never find this time again.

I’ll never be this young again.

What really stings is that they were making memories, real ones.

Laughing, talking, taking pictures that will outlive the moment. Those pictures will remind them of how it felt to be young, alive, and connected.

And me? I’ll remember sitting in the corner, alone with my thoughts, spiraling into the same loop of comparison and self-hate that’s been eating away at me for years.

The only "memory" I will have of this day will be of me writing this thread in the train, on the way home.

I wasn’t just missing out on a trip.

I was missing out on being part of something, part of life itself. And the worst part is, I know I’ll never get that time back. No matter what happens in the future, no amount of success, no plastic surgeries, no "ascension" will ever fill the gap in my soul.

Because the truth is, I let these moments slip through my fingers. And now I have to live with that.
ur just blackpilled like everyone else here.
 
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