D
Deleted member 22015
5'7" 6.25" NBP schizo suicidal truecel
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2022
- Posts
- 386
- Reputation
- 319
BACK from the depths of ever clamoring regret and curdled nostalgia comes this strange brew of a glimpse into the eternal. Perhaps a glimpse of the truly unified me who will in time become one with the force and mastered both the arts of the light and the dark side, the male and female, the divine human, the brahman. For I have finally realized that everything means nothing. You are told to grow up and sell your time, your soul, your emotions, your feelings, all your shit, fuckin, your youth, with the promise that you shall somehow be repaid with a comfortable life, the admiration of beautiful women, money, status and fame. This is all bullshit. The DEFINITIVE cope. The ultimate joke.
For you see, things get harder the harder that you try. The more effort one expends to correct a perceived problem a million take their place. The more you try to destroy a demon the more it multiplies and festers in your mind. In the pursuit of wealth man loses health. Then correcting the problem of health requires wealth. Unless u are like most people needing health in the first place and then chances are u are not wealthy to begin with.
In the pursuit of manhood, I have, for example, lost my balls. The world took them from me. I masturbated to exhaustion. I masturbated until it hurt. I thought I could masturbate manhood into being once upon a time. I have released enough sperm to have fathered many children and yet I have acted for some time now like a cuck bitch. I have not been congruent to my inner vision of the maximized me. I have not assumed my final form. I have conjured into being demons on account of inner karmic shame with women. Because I have acted so inwardly lustfully and maintained woman as sexual objects in my mind I feel shame in the presence of a younger more innocent women. When you have failed to be outwardly congruent in your outward actions this merely does you infinite damage. I have brought shame on my nation of Kazakhstan. Where is my pride? Where is my sense of dignity? Where is my sense of honor?
I feel I need vigor and further growth of my action-taking body to make amends and yet I feel I also need purification and humility and grace simultaneously. Strength and grace is REALLY sexy. That is where I want to be. Possession of one extreme seems to be unsustainable, possession of neither obviously highly undesirable. No strength and no grace is basically a belligerent adolescent boy.
Now here I am at 28 years old applying to minimum wage jobs measuring my sometimes-working penis and spending time on online message boards where the minutia of a man's appearance is scrutinized to the exact detail. I have been called ugly for years. I have a large pain body attached to my appearance. But to what extent is this pain body aiding my further development? Am I simply fucking myself over the more I try to micro manage shit and everything in itself becomes a compulsion toward evolution or success and yet simultaneously for me at least a sad parody?
I remember being a younger boy now and I remember how it was easy to be happy and shit because I didn't think so much. I was in fact incapable of it. I did things for no reason and didn't have to have meaning behind everything I did. I was probably worried about my dick size and I mean I was still miserable but I was miserable in an oblivious way. Blissfully ignorant, I found enjoyment in simple things.
I still want the simple things. A girl I can fuck who my mother approves of, in other words a girlfriend, a job I don't hate, a college education (maybe), a hard dick (I do not give a fuck if my little dick never grows another inch in my life. Just please GOD let it work right when the time comes. PUH LEEZ!!!) and a relatively nonmaterialist existence because all the riches in the world could not fill the void within my soul. And yet these simple things evade me as a linger on in a weakened broken nonmanifested state which cannot take enough action and move enough mountains to make amends. Alas!
But fuck it, I was sounding negative for a second there. I need to be positive. If I don't be positive I'm going to be negative. And once I start being negative I'm going to be depressed and lame and shit. I probably will always be depressed and lame I'll just get better at hiding it.
End captains log until I smoke like another 8th
For you see, things get harder the harder that you try. The more effort one expends to correct a perceived problem a million take their place. The more you try to destroy a demon the more it multiplies and festers in your mind. In the pursuit of wealth man loses health. Then correcting the problem of health requires wealth. Unless u are like most people needing health in the first place and then chances are u are not wealthy to begin with.
In the pursuit of manhood, I have, for example, lost my balls. The world took them from me. I masturbated to exhaustion. I masturbated until it hurt. I thought I could masturbate manhood into being once upon a time. I have released enough sperm to have fathered many children and yet I have acted for some time now like a cuck bitch. I have not been congruent to my inner vision of the maximized me. I have not assumed my final form. I have conjured into being demons on account of inner karmic shame with women. Because I have acted so inwardly lustfully and maintained woman as sexual objects in my mind I feel shame in the presence of a younger more innocent women. When you have failed to be outwardly congruent in your outward actions this merely does you infinite damage. I have brought shame on my nation of Kazakhstan. Where is my pride? Where is my sense of dignity? Where is my sense of honor?
I feel I need vigor and further growth of my action-taking body to make amends and yet I feel I also need purification and humility and grace simultaneously. Strength and grace is REALLY sexy. That is where I want to be. Possession of one extreme seems to be unsustainable, possession of neither obviously highly undesirable. No strength and no grace is basically a belligerent adolescent boy.
Now here I am at 28 years old applying to minimum wage jobs measuring my sometimes-working penis and spending time on online message boards where the minutia of a man's appearance is scrutinized to the exact detail. I have been called ugly for years. I have a large pain body attached to my appearance. But to what extent is this pain body aiding my further development? Am I simply fucking myself over the more I try to micro manage shit and everything in itself becomes a compulsion toward evolution or success and yet simultaneously for me at least a sad parody?
I remember being a younger boy now and I remember how it was easy to be happy and shit because I didn't think so much. I was in fact incapable of it. I did things for no reason and didn't have to have meaning behind everything I did. I was probably worried about my dick size and I mean I was still miserable but I was miserable in an oblivious way. Blissfully ignorant, I found enjoyment in simple things.
I still want the simple things. A girl I can fuck who my mother approves of, in other words a girlfriend, a job I don't hate, a college education (maybe), a hard dick (I do not give a fuck if my little dick never grows another inch in my life. Just please GOD let it work right when the time comes. PUH LEEZ!!!) and a relatively nonmaterialist existence because all the riches in the world could not fill the void within my soul. And yet these simple things evade me as a linger on in a weakened broken nonmanifested state which cannot take enough action and move enough mountains to make amends. Alas!
But fuck it, I was sounding negative for a second there. I need to be positive. If I don't be positive I'm going to be negative. And once I start being negative I'm going to be depressed and lame and shit. I probably will always be depressed and lame I'll just get better at hiding it.
End captains log until I smoke like another 8th
