The heart vs. the real world.

There comes a time when you have a decision to make about matters of the heart. You know you have to make it, you know you can’t put it off, but the possible consequences are potentially devastating. And you don’t want to deal with those consequences. But remaining silent will do nothing more than agitate you.
So you fret and fuss and overthink the shit out of it, wondering what to do. It plays on your mind, driving you even battier than you already are. But finally, you make the decision to speak to the other person, to tell them how you feel, consequences be damned. You have to be honest and true to yourself, even if that means nothing good will come of it.

And then, the decision is made for you. And as much as you’re relieved you don’t have to make it, it bothers you that the choice was taken away from you. It’s your call to make about how you communicate. You’re not upset with the other person; in a way, they’ve made it a lot easier for you to accept the situation and make peace with it. But you still wonder from time to time, what could have been, one way or the other.

It’s a familiar story, one whose refrain I’ve heard a lot over the years. But it’s very, very different when you’re the one making the decision. Very different indeed….

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A tired soul in a tired world.

I’m tired. Tired of a lot of the noise, garbage, and bullshit in this world. I need a change. I need new friends, a new job, and a much higher alcohol tolerance. Owning a bar would be nice as well.

I just don’t have it in the gas tank anymore. I exist and continue existing out of sheer inertia. I think I need a fresh start and perspective, but that’s not forthcoming.

Think I’ll hit the Burger King by my house later, grab a cup of coffee, and do some writing.

If MGTOWs are retards, then Incels aren’t human.

Time for another rude post title! Which means I got some skewering to do.

Whilst I was contemplating lunch today (meatball parm hero, for the curious, and quite tasty), a friend of mine wrote about her first encounter with an Incel. I had precisely no idea what that was, but when there was a comparison made to the MGTOW bunch, I knew this was bad.

Incel is short for “Involuntary Celibate.” For whatever reason, these guys can’t get laid. Or get a girlfriend. Or even get women to talk to them. Why, I don’t really know. I don’t care about their reasons. I care about their actions.

As with the MGTOW bunch, if they just complained about their shitty luck, I wouldn’t mind them too much. Hey, not all of us have what it takes to get women (and I’ll include myself in that list for several periods in my life), or to keep a girlfriend.

But as with the MGTards (hey, I just coined a new phrase!), they go beyond that, advocating raping women, longing for the days when women “knew their place in the kitchen”, and so on. Some of these assholes scream from the roof tops that women who’ve slept with more than one guy should be banned from college. These neo-con Neanderthals just boggle my mind with their bullshit.

And the poster boy for this shit is a murderous moron named Elliot Rodger, who killed 7 people, himself included, in 2014 when he couldn’t get laid. Sadly, he didn’t have the sense to kill himself at home where he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Did I say that out loud? Please note the lack of fucks I give. After all, I play Dungeons and Dragons, so the FBI already has me on their list. Hi Feds! Go fuck yourselves!

But back to the point. The incels, like the MGTards, are making it increasingly difficult for guys to meet and maintain relationships with women. Flat out, this is blatant and widespread douchebaggery on the part of my fellow men.

You assholes ARE the problem. And I only wish I could solve the problem that you are with the business end of a flamethrower. The world would be a better place. Fuck you all.

PS: The meatball parm hero was fucking delicious.