Scintilus

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Has the world gone mad?

Or is it me?

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I'm a miserable husk

Everything hurts. It's so hard, wearing this broken smile every day. Can't anyone see through the facade? If they could, would they care? They wouldn't. It's cold, the world's on mute, and the only thing that stops me from snapping is the hope that it might get better. It won't.

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Her

Oh, you thought I wasn't hung up on somebody. That's how people like me are shaped, molded--we're not born this way. They're hurt, damaged permanently by those they once loved. So what makes this conniving, back-stabbing, promiscuous little cur an object I interact with? She's the only person who I felt I was on the same wavelength with. We operated in the same manner, and she made me feel whole. When she was around, nothing hurt, sepia gave way to color, and what was once mute was now audible. She's gone now. She's dead, and buried. I don't even recognize her anymore.Truthfully, I wish ill on her, and hold a deep disdain knowing she'll always have a provider to bail her out. Everybody to her is a tool, a disposable bag of meat. She's a succubus. I've never met a better liar or manipulator. And yet for almost nearly 8 years, I've loved who she once was. She proved me wrong, I'm capable of feelings and love. I yearn for the return of that girl. She's the only person I've ever truly, deeply loved. I'll die alone and unloved, of that I'm sure. But my swollen heart aches on, fruitlessly.

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The night is soul crushing

I'm absolutely miserable. A woman can't feel loneliness like a male can. Women are very privileged in this regard. No matter how uneducated, inept, unkept, or unstable you are as a woman, a man will crave you. He may not be an attractive or rich man, but he will be found wanting. A woman is told her whole life that she deserves a handsome, chiseled provider. She's told that she's beautiful, no matter how big or how she's born. She is told that she's a princess, no matter how entitled she may feel or bratty she acts. Beauty products, body positivity, motivational literature, and romance media will always be marketed towards them. They may sleep either at peace, or with peace within their grasp. But a male, especially an unattractive male. He's disposable. He is expected to provide, to fight and die, to settle down, to treat his woman, to dress sharp, drive a nice car, make a reliable pay, keep a clean home. He's told women and children first. He's told that if he is unattractive and flirts with a woman, he is a creep. He is expected to accept his powerlessness in the court system. I'd do almost anything for a moderately attractive, somewhat intelligent female partner to provide for... but as an ugly male? I'll never see that wish through. I will die cold, alone, and unfulfilled. Because no woman would dare settle for unattractive.

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Wretches

Oh the 3rd. What a wonderful time of the month. I hate it, I hate the 3rd more than any day of the month. Why? Oh.. The 3rd is when all of the weak, wretched people get their Social Security/Disability benefits. These people are the lowest of the low, they’re often too mentally unstable, too weak, or more commonly - They refuse, to work. Every story I hear from one of these people involve some kind of invisible, bullshit ailment. What happened to survival of the fittest? What happened to culling the meek?  When did we become a country that not only approved of weakness, but supported it? When I see my customers come into my store, with clothes nicer than mine, driving a car nicer than mine, nails done up and hair highlighted, I die inside. Knowing my money, my slavery, funded their bullshit, drug-addled lifestyles. They do not contribute. They leech, like a parasite. How does my sickness and others like mine differ from theirs? The difference is, I have the strength to overcome and to force myself to blend in. But yet, I do not ask, and do not believe I deserve extra.

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Still Waters Run Deep

It feels depraved, yet exciting. On the outside, you wouldn’t expect me. You would think nothing of it, I wake up, I shower, I commute, I work, I come home, I cook, I socialize, I go to bed, I rinse, I repeat. During my work day, I smile, I help those who want, I pay for coworkers lunches, I tell my family I love them on break. Under the surface. The ill will that I harbor, and fester on like maggots in rotting meat. The simple truth, is that I’m a misanthropic sociopath forced to blend in with the other carcasses I’m made to walk with. You blend in to survive, or you die. It is exhausting, it is tiring, it is unforgiving, and it is painful. I despise degeneracy and progressiveness. I will NEVER  harm another human being, because I am above that, and those who do that. I will, however, detach myself from reality, and I will judge them. I will find even the innocent as guilty. Anyone reading this is likely thinking I’m a narcissist. Maybe that’s true. But I hate myself too. I judge myself. I loathe myself. I have disdain for myself just as others. I’m sick, and I want the world to be sick with me.. but that will never happen, now will it? This piece of shit blog? This is a means to an end, a healthy, normal lifestyle. You can’t heal until you bleed the wound dry.

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At the nerves

This is a blog full of ranting, worthless bullshit and tripe from an unhinged individual full of loathing and hate. All content on this webpage is purely fabricated. Nothing written here should ever, ever be taken as serious or dangerous in any way, shape, or form. Only a paranoid idiot would take it as such.