The Pathetic Life of the Inferior

Imagine a life where you have never been great at anything; never felt the urge to
be great at anything, never felt that magnetic admiration to someone who was great
at something, wanted to imitate and ultimately defeat him. Just nothing. Literally
all you do in life is exist. Occupy space. Pass the time. You're a leftist.

You're bored, as usual, tweeting about your fucking hair and not even feeling any
kind of happiness from it; just soothing your constant need to be bitter and cunty
and petty toward other women. Every single thing you've done in the past year was
mundane, shallow, and boring. You spent the last six hour reading kinda-interesting
Reddit stories about people who made interesting Halloween hats for their kids or
some stupid bullshit that you think is interesting and you may say is interesting
but you're not really sure if it's really interesting. You're just fucking sitting
there, gestating, fermenting, with a moist hole between your legs that guarantees
you'll at least never have to get up and move around and work to support yourself.

And then you see men, over in some corner, having fun. You've never seen this
before. What are they even doing? Instead of their consciousness merely sitting in
their thick skull and revolving around itself, they are imbuing their conscious
energy and intentionally into external objects, crafts, goals, projects. All the
bitterness and cuntiness you feel nonstop seems to be absent, as they congratulate
each other for being victorious, and happily learn from someone who defeated them.
These creatures are truly content to be alive. They have found purpose in a
purposeless universe.

And your gaze turns back on itself, on your self, and you realize you've never had
that. You can never have it. You're just a stupid cunt.

So you get up, you walk over there, and you fucking ruin everything. Just ruin the
whole fucking thing. The five seconds of attention you get will be worth destroying
it. Because you're a leftist.