ComteDeBetamax, I posted this in response to your little follow-up comment in your horror show of hell post.

This post is for everyone here, especially those who come next.

Life is tough dudes.

Your ability to deal with life - even more so a tough life - defines you as a man.

Some of you may know, but others may not…

  • I managed incurable cancer for a decade.
  • The last two years of it were incurable, unbeatable, and really fucking hard.
  • I had surgery after surgery, chemo after chemo, and even a psychotic break after so many goddamned steroids.
  • Then, unexpectedly, when all seemed beaten, I suffered from PTSD and anhedonia.
  • I never mentioned it before, but nearly everyone in my family died this last couple years, too.
  • And now, both my parents are deteriorating fast: one unexpectedly dying and likely to die tonight and one just really deteriorating fast.

They're not even old.

(Clearly our genes suck.)

There will only be one left after all this.

So what? Really. As uncomfortable as it may seem, so what?

Que cera cera.

It's life, dudes. No one said "welcome to life, easy and fun life, enjoy the pleasurable ride."

I mean fuck, half the planet's inhabitants over time died young, died early, died gruesomely.

Why, then, when that is our objective reality, have you gotten so attached to that other one?

You know the one I'm talking about. That self-imposed singularity.

Your singularity.

The truth is this: that she is even considered a singularity is itself an irregularity.

If your very life is not assured then why should the presence of this particular woman be so assured? And why is it so important to you? And why is your very manhood at stake over the potential loss of this one?

It makes no fucking sense, either logically or emotionally.

Why can't there just be a different one? Or maybe none at all and just you?

Why?

What space within you so desperately needs to be filled by her?

Let me guess, like that dumbass scene in that dumbass movie, "she completes you."

Fuck that, faggot… you complete you.

Why - like the horse cock dude - are so many of you so goddamned obsessed with the woman in your life?

This dude is castrating himself to the world, to his wife, to himself. Worst of all, for sure, to himself.

It's awful. It's unnerving.

Should I have folded like the horse cock homo? The same dude who, as made clear by his update, is disgustingly abdicating to his bitch wife?

Don't you understand that it makes no fucking sense?

You should be obsessed with you. Not unnaturally. Not unhealthily. Not according to the (gay phrase) blue pill version of "self" and not according to the the (equally gay phrase) red pill version of "self" - but instead - in a genuine way that places your needs first, your desires first, your goals, your aspirations, your mission, your vision, your plan, your execution… first.

Do you understand that being "first" and focusing on me "first" is what has gotten me through hell? A hell that has dragged on a long-ass time? A hell that you all experience, for different reasons, here usually related to your own singularity, a woman, but a hell that can be overcome?

First.

First, fucker, first.

Focus on that and nothing more.

You need to be first.

There's nothing wrong with being first. It's good for you, even if you don't know it yet.

Be first.