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Hullo
I haven't slept in a while, feeling odd. Used to come here back in 06 I think? Been a while, good to see the board still kickin. I'm pretty sure this channel is new though.

What's grim about my life?
Here I am, aimlessly returning to a site I frequented as a teen 2 decades ago now. That's pretty grim.
My parents are dead, my career is in the gutter, my health is trash. My hair is falling out, I'm overweight, I'm addicted to porn. I still dunno how to talk to fucking ppl. I have periods where I pretend. For a couple of years I pulled myself together, fixed my chronic pain, fixed my bad habits, got fit, went back to school, got a new job, started dating around. Was considered a dependable, reliable, if odd, guy. But even that was just an act, like maybe this is an act took. Because I do believe we choose our own misery.

I look at myself in the mirror and I both love and hate myself, I see the vain things I like about myself, and the ever accumulating flaws of both age and my own personal failing in taking care of my health. Ngl, shit got rough 2 years ago. Had to take care of my dying dad while my own health suffered and all my girls dumped me for being a slut, lol (deserved). I did try to do the right thing in many situations, or maybe I just felt trapped by obligation. I knew my heart enough to know I had no choice, in caring for this dying man. And now he is passed and I should feel like more of a man, stepping up to the plate, but I just feel more like a fucking child and obsess over my own constant failures to pullyself together and have one productive day.

I see myself falling apart and I am just "checked out". I feel vacant, dissociated. Not real. In hell. I have chronic pain and it really shouldn't be too difficult to fix but I tear myself apart, my anxiety literally twists me into knots that destroy me. At the core, it may be that, I'm not sure j want to fix anything. Maybe there's some element of malingering. But more than that, I think, it's the nihilistic futility of it all. Lay down and die. I could get fit again, maybe. But I'm almost 40 now. I'll just decline. I'll just injure myself again in some trivial way that will detail my entire life again, and then I'll be 45 trying to pull myself together going through all this again, and I'll look at myself in the mirror and see myself even more alien than ever before. I could fix my hair. I could fly to Turkey and get a transplant tomorrow if I wanted, I have tbe means. But then more will fall out, and it will become an ongoing CHORE I have to do that will be, ultimately, futile.
I could fix my porn addiction. Abstain. I've held out for weeks, before. It really does make me feel so much better. But then, in the moment. Just like when I eat garbage. I don't care. I try so hard to control myself, and then it just moments to sabotage all my plans, all my hard work. And I feel myself... Weakening. Not just aging, but I feel ill. Like something vital has been ripped from me. Before, when I pulled myself together, I had reached a state of uncaring that led me to doing so. I derealized enough to control my animal urges and my tired lack of masculinity. But now, it's different. I was in the bottom of the pit and I expected nothing, and then more than I ever expected was granted to me. And now that it's happened once I expect it all to work out again, so I give up because my lazy soul is too dumb to realize I need to work for it to work out.

Everything is garbage, too. The internet is dying. All our digital infrastructure has been torn apart by illiterate cow shit eating daily Indian scum. All you see is the news anywhere. Everyone is more hostile. The world is just unpleasant.

So what's grim?
Everything. That this is our pointless life. And that we can all choose the thoughts we have, the outlooks on life, and we can choose to be happy despite everything. And yet here we are. Here I am, pouring out the core of my utter hatred for this bright and sunny world full of wonder and joy. Consumed by myself. And I don't feel devastated right now. I feel sad about shit like my father dying or surface level shit like that. But I look upon the utter devastation of my life and I feel nothing but anger and hate. I saw someone post about cutting. Cute. So I figured I'd come here and talk about my own self destruction.

And I feel so lonely, but anyone that gets close I just want to grab them and suck them in and drown them with me too. Subtle, though. Despite the anger seething beneath it all, which is quite obvious if you pay attention, I smile, I charm. This is all insidious and of given the chance I quietly poison the world around me and then revel in seeing someone else rot.

Fuck you all. God bless the saint of self destruction, and God bless the atom bomb. See the cat, see the cradle.