
PeakIncels
If I die, I can be replaced
- Joined
- Jul 17, 2024
- Posts
- 8,646
- Reputation
- 15,647
my life is so... miserable
i do the same stuff, everyday, i don't really speak to ppl irl anymore, i just get so uncomfortable and annoyed
annoyance, annoying, everything, is so boring
i don't eat, if i do it's barely something, just scraps, because a nice meal would just make me disgusted, ill puke it
i don't really care about that stuff, my flaws, or anything really
it's just the thought of living here, on this planet, 80 years of suffering, tiny grasps of happiness, moments, that last a blink of an eye
I'm meaningless, my identity is based on other people, my whole life, I seek for validation, because a "I'm proud of you" often made my week, even if coming from a stranger
after I'll die, only dust will remain of me, and my actions forgotten, my impact, or the little one I did, is again, meaningless
i am here because im forced to, and im just living, because i have to, my brain is scared of death, because for me, death, is the true freedom
no responsibility, no thoughts, nothing, just pure void that brings you back to years where you had absolutely nothing to do, and that was fine
my journey is based on how little stuff i can regret, chasing dopamine and stuff I enjoy, but so far? i hate everything that I did, thought, and made, i wasn't supposed to be born, i wasn't supposed to be here, i wasn't
i do the same stuff, everyday, i don't really speak to ppl irl anymore, i just get so uncomfortable and annoyed
annoyance, annoying, everything, is so boring
i don't eat, if i do it's barely something, just scraps, because a nice meal would just make me disgusted, ill puke it
i don't really care about that stuff, my flaws, or anything really
it's just the thought of living here, on this planet, 80 years of suffering, tiny grasps of happiness, moments, that last a blink of an eye
I'm meaningless, my identity is based on other people, my whole life, I seek for validation, because a "I'm proud of you" often made my week, even if coming from a stranger
after I'll die, only dust will remain of me, and my actions forgotten, my impact, or the little one I did, is again, meaningless
i am here because im forced to, and im just living, because i have to, my brain is scared of death, because for me, death, is the true freedom
no responsibility, no thoughts, nothing, just pure void that brings you back to years where you had absolutely nothing to do, and that was fine
my journey is based on how little stuff i can regret, chasing dopamine and stuff I enjoy, but so far? i hate everything that I did, thought, and made, i wasn't supposed to be born, i wasn't supposed to be here, i wasn't