Observing Life from the Shadows

LookMeNow

LookMeNow

Iron
Joined
Sep 19, 2023
Posts
2
Reputation
1
In a small corner of the universe, in an act that some would call divine whim and others simply chance, a being was born who seemed to be the victim of the cruelest joke. This individual was not graced with the aesthetic attributes that society considers acceptable. His face appeared to be an amalgam of features that, separately, might not be unpleasant, but together formed a strange and dissonant combination.

Since his childhood, puzzled looks and barely concealed giggles accompanied him at every turn. There wasn't a single day when he didn't question why, of all the beings in the universe, he was saddled with an appearance that could only be described as a failed experiment. Disproportionate features and acne-prone skin were flames that fueled the growing bonfire of his insecurity.

Life became an endless series of rejections and taunts. Every attempt to establish connections with others was like a Sisyphean task, with the rock of ugliness always rolling downhill, making efforts seem futile. Even those who strove to be compassionate could not help but feel an instinctive revulsion at its presence.

Job and love opportunities seemed to elude him as if guided by a relentless aesthetic radar. Doors closed before he had a chance to prove himself as a person. Why, out of the billions of human beings in the world, he was one of those chosen to carry such a burden.

Plunged into the depths of a dark and ruthless reality. Every step outside the four walls of the room became a battle against scorn and contempt. Mocking laughter and cruel murmurs followed his footsteps like malevolent shadows, constantly reminding him of his place in the implacable hierarchy.

In his room, in the solitude of darkness, he found the only peace that the world had denied him. Tears, falling on lonely nights, were bitter offerings to a cruel god who apparently delighted in his suffering.

As the years passed, she sank into bitter resignation. His eyes absorbed images of lives filled with love and success, cruelly contrasting with his own narrative. He became a spectator of life, watching from the shadows as others enjoyed what he had been denied.

Despite desperate efforts to change his appearance, investing time and resources in looksmax routines, the mirror, a mute witness to his pain, remained a relentless reminder of his reality. Every gym session, every skin care product, every attempt to master fashion only seemed to accentuate the imperfections that scarred him. Hopelessness took deeper root with each failed attempt.

Trapped in a maze of despair, where society seemed to punish him for a fault he had not chosen to commit. As he watched others enjoy life effortlessly.

He asked himself, again and again, why me? The answer, lost in the indifferent immensity, seemed an echo without return, an unanswered question that would resonate through his existence like an eternal lament.

And so, between physical unattractiveness, lack of talent and bitter resignation, this being faded into the shadows of existence, like shadows at dawn. His story, a heartbreaking tale of struggle and despair, serves as a grim reminder that sometimes life seems to enjoy playing its cruel tricks on those who long most for the light as the world continued on its course, oblivious to the silent tragedy that had transpired.

Why always him?
 
Last edited:
  • +1
Reactions: Tabula Rasa
yung wetto from the ghetto
1D4B54E7 FF42 4A57 8630 6FA4739A9CDD
 
  • JFL
Reactions: Tabula Rasa
fuuuck i dnrd
 
  • +1
Reactions: subhuman tyrone
Poetic, huh? Maybe you should start your own fan-fiction on here
 
In a small corner of the universe, in an act that some would call divine whim and others simply chance, a being was born who seemed to be the victim of the cruelest joke. This individual was not graced with the aesthetic attributes that society considers acceptable. His face appeared to be an amalgam of features that, separately, might not be unpleasant, but together formed a strange and dissonant combination.

Since his childhood, puzzled looks and barely concealed giggles accompanied him at every turn. There wasn't a single day when he didn't question why, of all the beings in the universe, he was saddled with an appearance that could only be described as a failed experiment. Disproportionate features and acne-prone skin were flames that fueled the growing bonfire of his insecurity.

Life became an endless series of rejections and taunts. Every attempt to establish connections with others was like a Sisyphean task, with the rock of ugliness always rolling downhill, making efforts seem futile. Even those who strove to be compassionate could not help but feel an instinctive revulsion at its presence.

Job and love opportunities seemed to elude him as if guided by a relentless aesthetic radar. Doors closed before he had a chance to prove himself as a person. Why, out of the billions of human beings in the world, he was one of those chosen to carry such a burden.

Plunged into the depths of a dark and ruthless reality. Every step outside the four walls of the room became a battle against scorn and contempt. Mocking laughter and cruel murmurs followed his footsteps like malevolent shadows, constantly reminding him of his place in the implacable hierarchy.

In his room, in the solitude of darkness, he found the only peace that the world had denied him. Tears, falling on lonely nights, were bitter offerings to a cruel god who apparently delighted in his suffering.

As the years passed, she sank into bitter resignation. His eyes absorbed images of lives filled with love and success, cruelly contrasting with his own narrative. He became a spectator of life, watching from the shadows as others enjoyed what he had been denied.

Despite desperate efforts to change his appearance, investing time and resources in looksmax routines, the mirror, a mute witness to his pain, remained a relentless reminder of his reality. Every gym session, every skin care product, every attempt to master fashion only seemed to accentuate the imperfections that scarred him. Hopelessness took deeper root with each failed attempt.

Trapped in a maze of despair, where society seemed to punish him for a fault he had not chosen to commit. As he watched others enjoy life effortlessly.

He asked himself, again and again, why me? The answer, lost in the indifferent immensity, seemed an echo without return, an unanswered question that would resonate through his existence like an eternal lament.

And so, between physical unattractiveness, lack of talent and bitter resignation, this being faded into the shadows of existence, like shadows at dawn. His story, a heartbreaking tale of struggle and despair, serves as a grim reminder that sometimes life seems to enjoy playing its cruel tricks on those who long most for the light as the world continued on its course, oblivious to the silent tragedy that had transpired.

Why always him?
What a crock of shit.
 

Similar threads

i_love_roosters
Replies
13
Views
198
oldcel2002
oldcel2002
Xangsane
Replies
53
Views
493
Xangsane
Xangsane
Z
Replies
5
Views
333
murdah
murdah

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top