When I was a small boy, I had all sorts of dreams and fantasies, X-ray vision, the ability to fly/levitate, being bulletproof, aliens coming down and recognizing that I was the smartest being on the planet and making me immortal and giving me a space station and a space battle fleet and a million robot army, building a super duper race car and entering and winning a world championship race, (dating myself here) being an engine driver for a steam locomotive, being a pilot…. you get the picture.
Of course, I was never in the slightest doubt that these were all pure fantasies, with zero possibility of ever happening, not a vanishingly small lottery jackpot winning possibility, but a zero possibility.
Now many years have passed, indeed, decades, and I could say the exact same things about any dreams of falling in love, being in love, the wimminz of my dreams, and all that crap.
Sure, I remember well the feeling of falling in love, and being in love, and it was fucking fabulous, but sooner or later it turns to shit and the pain that follows undoes all the good.
It’s a bit like the old joke about a guy fucking a wasps nest, afterwards, doesn’t matter what the hole was, the guy would poke it with a stick for a bit to see if any wasps flew out, before he got his cock out.
I will believe in the tooth fairly, santa fucking claus, and lucky rabbits paws, long, long, long before I will ever believe in love or NAWALT again, like santa and the tooth fairly, I grew out of them.
My birthday rolls around every year, as does Christmas, I don’t give a fuck, I don’t give anyone else presents, (not even allowed to give my kids any… lol) and I don’t want any myself, it means nothing to me, what does mean something is your company, hang out for an hour or five, that I appreciate.
Which makes me a motherfucker as far as toys-r-us are concerned, no belief in santa, and no access to anyone I give a shit about who does believe in santa, means toys-r-us can’t sell me a damn thing, at any fucking price, not interested.
You see the analogy between not believing in santa and toys-r-us never making a sale, and not believing in love / NAWALT and nobody pushing relationshits / marriage / respect for wimminz all that crap meaning the wimminz never make a sale…
Beliefs and dreams are fairly easy to kill, and damn near impossible to re-install in a person.
The reason for this is that LOSING a belief or dream puts you waaay to hell and gone beyond the null point, which is having an open mind, neither believing nor disbelieving, losing a dream or belief means you will never ever buy that shit again, even if it is real.
Killer Klowns from Outer Space, I shoulda payed more attention to that film, and played it more often, it may just be correlation but every wimminz I have watched it with who was a psycho skank ho fucking hated it with a vengeance…. scared shitless of clowns… angered beyond belief that ___I___ found it fucking funny.
When the wimminz didn’t, there were shades of the disappointment a small kid feels when they know the grown ups aren’t really excited to see santa, they are just pretending…
That’s what all those dreams are, at heart, the illusion of being a part of something much bigger than ourselves, and that is what growing up is all about, the realisation is that there is no part of something, beyond a one way street from you to it illusion, part of the Army while you have something to give to it… part of a marriage while you have something to give to it…
In reality you are all alone, we all are.
I can’t feel your pain, or feel it for you, if I have been through the same shit, then maybe I can empathise and relate, but your hurting you do alone, and your overcoming it, or no, you also do alone.
Back when I was a dreamer, a believer, I might try and take that burden from you, hey baby, not to worry your car is fucked, you take mine, I will fix yours…
Now it’s “get that piece of shit towed and outta the highway.”
Now it’s “well you better get a taxi or bus to my place so you can suck my cock, or I’ll get some other slut.”
Now it’s “what’s that, YOUR dreams and beliefs are going up in smoke, who gives a shit”
Now I am all growed up I believe in my own personal experience and shit that I can t0uch and feel, and nothing else.
I’m a bit like the guy who fucked the wasps nest that one time, now I am gonna check first, every time, and if you don’t want me to check, that’s fine with me, I’ll just assume your cunt is full of wasps, and pass.
Some wimminz have looked at me, nodded in apparent solidarity and understanding, and talked about False Rape Accusations and the boy who cried wolf… I tell them, no, you still don’t fucking get it.
I don’t just disbelieve EVERY rape claim I hear automatically, but *perhaps* not those where the chick is on life support, I don’t actually give a flying fuck, even about the chick on life support.
NOT
MY
FUCKING
PROBLEM
You see I have lost the ability to believe that me giving a shit about anything to do with a wimminz or niggerz is ever going to be anything except a one way street.
That is a non-motherfucking-reversible, permanent, and profound change.
Wimminz and niggerz, like toys-r-us accountants, couldn’t give a fuck, after all, I am just one customer, and as P T Barnum said, there will be another sucker along any moment.
Until it stops… and between 30 and 50 thousand other fuckers are reading this shit every day, and this place is just one tiny pimple on the ass end of the MRA world.
You wimminz and niggerz, you have sweet fuck all to double down on with me, and my brothers, you are as dead to us as our childish dreams of X ray vision, flying cars, and NAWALT.
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