6 posts shown.
redbear2 said:Relationships are basically just a way for one person to exert control over another.
That is spot on. It’s honestly wild how many people still don't see that today.
Explain yourself...
Love is just power and control, period. It’s nothing else.
He’s a total charmer, but what about you? How many hearts have you broken along the way?
Even if it's something special, is it really worth chasing through a screen or a phone? You can't just spend your life lying in bed daydreaming. If he were a real man, he’d be right there to take charge and grab you by the thigh. What do you think—is he actually up for it? Does he even know how to handle a woman like you?
Is he living in some other city? Why hasn't he made the trip to your town at least once like a real man?
shadowheron49, you honestly need a few years of dealing with these virtual relationships before you can finally rise above it all and stop taking them seriously. There’s this pivotal moment where it clicks—where you realize nobody is actually real and you just want to flip everyone off. But getting to that headspace takes time. For years, I was out there searching the web, falling under the spell of online personalities, just like anyone else. It wasn't until enough time had passed that I could finally look back and think, "Are you kidding me? You still believe in this crap?" and truly reinvent myself. The absolute best part of my entire internet experience was the realization that I am never going to find what I'm looking for there. Once I accepted that, I was free. As long as I was chasing those digital shadows and letting them influence me, I was essentially living in a state of depression. For months now, I haven't engaged with any single specific "virtual person," and I feel so much better and more liberated. But you have to figure that out for yourself. You have to spend maybe four or five years messaging people before you finally grasp the point: you won't find anything. Then comes that positive surge when you learn how to be comfortable in your own company and actually start laughing at the very same people you once naively thought were important. I still talk to people online, but I’m not looking for anything anymore; I just mess around and joke with them. I’d call these virtual relationships "sucking up." You suck up to people because you're afraid of being alone, just to feel like you have someone. Eventually, you get sick of that desperate behavior. You hit a phase where, after two or three years, you just want to tell everyone to go screw themselves. Gradually, you reach a breaking point where you can't even stand being in a private chat for two minutes because you're so fed up with the illusions. A time comes when you learn to embrace solitude, and your main targets for mockery become the people who *can't* be alone. And let’s face it—those are the exact same people you used to suck up to. This whole culture of online communication is just one big exercise in desperation: "I can't stand being by myself, so I'll go suck up to some strangers to feel better." After a few years, you hit a limit, and solitude becomes the only honorable solution. But you need a backbone to pull that off; not everyone can decisively say, "Screw all of you," and just go to sleep. I can do that now, but I spent five solid years chasing ghosts and floating through endless illusions. I learned the hard way that nothing is there. The greatest feeling in the history of online interaction is refusing to believe in the hype; it gives me this incredible sense of defiance. Seriously, everything online is just people sucking up to each other, and anyone with even a shred of ego eventually finds it repulsive. Regardless of the loneliness, in the end, being alone is the most pleasant thing of all because, ultimately, you aren't kissing anyone's ass.