
WhyNotMe_
6'3 FT SUB5 / 17YO
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2025
- Posts
- 1,334
- Reputation
- 1,214
"It's lowkey over.
You can't change your genetics. If you're born ugly, you'll be ugly. If you're born short, you'll be short. Nothing can change that.
Those who are ugly and short are just here to suffer — cry every day, think about killing themselves, and either eventually go through with it or find some weak cope to keep going. But it doesn't actually get better.
I tried to act normal, to be NT (neurotypical), to live a life like everyone else. Then I saw myself — and instantly wanted to die. There was a school event, and someone took a picture. The moment I saw it, I made some dumb excuse and left the school. I couldn’t bear the idea of anyone seeing me.
I was supposed to go to a party. Guess what? I made up an excuse not to go. I didn't want to see my face in any more pictures.
I'm thinking about ending it. I don't see the point of this miserable life.
Yeah, I experienced some teenage love and partying. Everything felt fine — until someone took a picture of me with a friend. That's when the suicidal thoughts hit hard. I always end up leaving early or covering up with a hoodie, just to hide.
I have no idea why the fuck I'm writing this here. But yeah… there you go."
You can't change your genetics. If you're born ugly, you'll be ugly. If you're born short, you'll be short. Nothing can change that.
Those who are ugly and short are just here to suffer — cry every day, think about killing themselves, and either eventually go through with it or find some weak cope to keep going. But it doesn't actually get better.
I tried to act normal, to be NT (neurotypical), to live a life like everyone else. Then I saw myself — and instantly wanted to die. There was a school event, and someone took a picture. The moment I saw it, I made some dumb excuse and left the school. I couldn’t bear the idea of anyone seeing me.
I was supposed to go to a party. Guess what? I made up an excuse not to go. I didn't want to see my face in any more pictures.
I'm thinking about ending it. I don't see the point of this miserable life.
Yeah, I experienced some teenage love and partying. Everything felt fine — until someone took a picture of me with a friend. That's when the suicidal thoughts hit hard. I always end up leaving early or covering up with a hoodie, just to hide.
I have no idea why the fuck I'm writing this here. But yeah… there you go."
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