PEENO08
Master
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2025
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Born into this world as an ugly Asian man, awkward and forgettable, I am a walking punchline to the cruel joke that is life. Every mirror is my enemy, every glance from a woman a dagger to my soul. I hate what I see. I hate what I am. And above all, I hate that I was not born as one of them - the tall, chiseled white gods who effortlessly claim the world as their birthright.
Let me paint you the picture of my hell. My face? Flat, featureless, like a poorly drawn cartoon. Eyes too small, nose too broad, skin that yellows under fluorescent lights like some sickly jaundice victim. No jawline to speak of - just a soft, rotund chin that screams weakness. I stand in crowds and disappear, overshadowed by everyone, especially the towering whites who loom like giants from ancient myths. My hair is straight, black, and boring, nothing like the flowing, sunkissed locks that white men toss casually while women swoon.
I despise my race for this betrayal. Chink genes? A curse, a bioweapon, disguised as heritage. We're stereotyped as smart, sure, but what good is a brain when your body itself is a prison? Socially outcast and branded as the working class slaving away for the benefit of our white overlords. In the dating game? We're invisible at best, emasculated jokes at worst. Hollywood casts us as sidekicks, asexual eunuchs, pets. White men? They're the envy of every ad, every movie, every fantasy. Tall, broad shouldered, with blue eyes that pierce and smiles that conquer. They walk into a room and own it. I walk in and get asked if I'm delivering food.
Oh, the lengths I would go to, to be able to savor the feeling of being one of them. To wake up in a body with a face that doesn't look like it's been brutally caved in from a car accident with fair skin. To have high set cheekbones, a strong brow ridge, and a frame that fills out clothes like they're made for me.
There is no sin imaginable that I would not commit in order for me to achieve that dream. No more "I guess you're not that subhuman looking, for an Asian guy of course" backhanded bullshit. No more swiping right on apps only to be ghosted because my profile pic screams chinkazoid.
Fate spat on me. Genetics rigged the game.
I'm even getting surgery to break my entire upper jaw and the nasal area supported by it just to look a bit more white. But deep down I know it's futile. A band-aid on a gaping wound. The truth is, race is king in this world. And I'm a peasant, the lowest of the low, an untouchable, castrated dance monkey whose only purpose is to serve as entertainment to my genetic superiors.
Let me paint you the picture of my hell. My face? Flat, featureless, like a poorly drawn cartoon. Eyes too small, nose too broad, skin that yellows under fluorescent lights like some sickly jaundice victim. No jawline to speak of - just a soft, rotund chin that screams weakness. I stand in crowds and disappear, overshadowed by everyone, especially the towering whites who loom like giants from ancient myths. My hair is straight, black, and boring, nothing like the flowing, sunkissed locks that white men toss casually while women swoon.
I despise my race for this betrayal. Chink genes? A curse, a bioweapon, disguised as heritage. We're stereotyped as smart, sure, but what good is a brain when your body itself is a prison? Socially outcast and branded as the working class slaving away for the benefit of our white overlords. In the dating game? We're invisible at best, emasculated jokes at worst. Hollywood casts us as sidekicks, asexual eunuchs, pets. White men? They're the envy of every ad, every movie, every fantasy. Tall, broad shouldered, with blue eyes that pierce and smiles that conquer. They walk into a room and own it. I walk in and get asked if I'm delivering food.
Oh, the lengths I would go to, to be able to savor the feeling of being one of them. To wake up in a body with a face that doesn't look like it's been brutally caved in from a car accident with fair skin. To have high set cheekbones, a strong brow ridge, and a frame that fills out clothes like they're made for me.
There is no sin imaginable that I would not commit in order for me to achieve that dream. No more "I guess you're not that subhuman looking, for an Asian guy of course" backhanded bullshit. No more swiping right on apps only to be ghosted because my profile pic screams chinkazoid.
Fate spat on me. Genetics rigged the game.
I'm even getting surgery to break my entire upper jaw and the nasal area supported by it just to look a bit more white. But deep down I know it's futile. A band-aid on a gaping wound. The truth is, race is king in this world. And I'm a peasant, the lowest of the low, an untouchable, castrated dance monkey whose only purpose is to serve as entertainment to my genetic superiors.
