#221 ·
Just go ahead and do it—see what kind of hell breaks loose.
Who cares, anyway? You’ll probably just get hit by a car tomorrow. 🙄 🙄 🙄
Who cares, anyway? You’ll probably just get hit by a car tomorrow. 🙄 🙄 🙄
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Started by Noah Sanchez7 · · 👁 7 views · 226 replies
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#222 ·
George Jackson5 said:Just go ahead and do it—see what kind of hell breaks loose.
Who cares, anyway? You’ll probably just get hit by a car tomorrow. 🙄 🙄 🙄
What?
#223 ·
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Damn... respect. It's just a shame you keep second-guessing yourself.
But the text hits hard—I'm with you on this one.👍
#224 ·
Noah Sanchez7 said:I know how to love, just not in the way people do these days.
I’m not really a fan of this world. The planet itself is beautiful, but society...
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#225 ·
Truth, truth, and more truth... Honestly, if we didn't have this damn withdrawal crisis—if getting a fix was free, if veins weren't basically indestructible so you wouldn't spend two hours getting pissed off just to miss the shot or end up hitting nothing but skin—well, things would be different. And if every hit actually landed right the first time... plus, if there weren't people we actually care about, people we can't just stand by while they watch us struggle or worry about finding us face down in a ditch one morning... then yeah, everything would be perfect. And I’m not being sarcastic if it sounds that way! I mean, come on, everything has its downsides. You saw my last post. It's not like I mentioned that I've got three months of hard labor and another court date hanging over my head. If only we could just get high our whole lives without hurting anyone else.
I don't regret any of it, actually. Even the twitching, the nights spent sitting in a police station, even the absolute hell of a withdrawal. Because all of that made me who I am today. If only we could just keep control over all those strings...
Enjoy it while you can... I don't believe it lasts forever, but it doesn't have to be short either. Some people spend their entire lives just waiting for the weekend—after school, after college, after work... everyone is just waiting for Friday so they can finally take a break from existing! Have a good weekend, and I hope your veins hold out until Monday.
I don't regret any of it, actually. Even the twitching, the nights spent sitting in a police station, even the absolute hell of a withdrawal. Because all of that made me who I am today. If only we could just keep control over all those strings...
Enjoy it while you can... I don't believe it lasts forever, but it doesn't have to be short either. Some people spend their entire lives just waiting for the weekend—after school, after college, after work... everyone is just waiting for Friday so they can finally take a break from existing! Have a good weekend, and I hope your veins hold out until Monday.
#226 ·
"Look, I'm just one messed up kid who's spent basically his entire life making nothing but bad calls."
How can you even be sure they're wrong?
So, what you're actually asking is if I’m one of those people who’s nostalgic for the "good old days," right? Like, what exactly am I so fond of about how things used to be? Honestly, it’s not some fairy tale version of the past, it's just that everything felt more grounded before everything became a frantic, digital mess. There are still spots on this planet where life moves at a human pace instead of a fiber-optic one, so why wouldn't I want that? And hey, if you think I'm so obsessed with the past, why don't you just pack your bags and head out to one of those places yourself?
Why? Because people love to claim we just "don't live like we used to."
Look, the fact that you went down the path of using drugs is the ultimate proof that the system already chewed you up and spit you out. It’s exactly what they want; they suck you in, drain everything you have, and then just toss you aside like nothing.
I think you’re seriously overestimating your own experience here. The reasons why people actually bail on things are way more layered and complicated than the stuff you're laying out, and honestly, most of those motives start exactly where your little grievances end.
Don't you get that smiling, sucking up, dressing up, and all that extra fluff is just a choice? Your choice is to not do any of it, while someone else chooses to go all out. So what's the actual problem?
...it's just a matter of taste...nobody is forcing you to do anything if you don't want to...
Since when is being a "wreck" some kind of measurement???
Behind every single effort to be accepted lies the need for an individual to impose and affirm their own value system. There's nothing pathetic about that; if anything, I'd say there's plenty of ruthlessness involved.
Exactly. Everything comes with a price.
Your "better position" is just whatever you feel when you stab someone in the back. To reach that "position," you have to swallow a little—or a lot—of shit first.
I don't see the difference.
What do you think we'd gain if we were all coated in "uncultured manners"? Would things actually be better?
Fake morality is just the logical byproduct of mediocre social rules. Society forces you to follow the rules that proved most effective for the community's survival, while you as an individual look for space to indulge your own desires that clash with those rules, playing games and bending things just so you don't have to face the consequences.
If you actually stepped out into the middle of Broadway and called your mom to come tie a tire around your wrist, then maybe—just maybe—I’d start believing you finally ditched that fake-ass "moral high ground" you're always preaching about.
To actually be a "human being"—whatever that means to you, me, or anyone else—it really boils down to one thing: it’s about being a certain kind of entity. It’s not just some vague concept either; it’s about possessing specific qualities that set you apart from just existing.
It all comes down to those raw survival instincts, man. You can study all the manuals you want, but when things actually hit the fan, it’s that gut feeling that keeps you breathing. It's about that primal drive to just stay alive when everything else goes sideways.
I’m talking about being fully dialed in—having that total awareness of who I am, everything I do, and exactly what’s going on in the world around me.
I honestly think that’s a killer combination for any living thing. It’s exactly why we’ve made it this far.
It honestly doesn't matter if you're out there surviving in the middle of the jungle or just grinding away in the heart of New York City. It’s all the exact same game.
Having this level of consciousness, especially when you factor in the ability to actually move around and make things happen in the world, basically hands you the keys to the kingdom—it gives you the power to choose exactly how and where you’re going to express your own humanity.
I mean, where exactly are you getting stuck on this?
Wait, didn't you just spend that whole time listing nothing but a bunch of your own personal biases about people?
Look, at the end of the day, you’ve gotta put yourself first and prioritize your own needs, because if you don't, you just end up becoming this bitter, resentful mess that eventually becomes nothing more than a massive burden on your community or the people around you. It's simple math: thinking about yourself isn't being selfish, it's a fundamental law of survival, whether you like that reality or not.
So what are we supposed to do then? Are we just going to tell them to go out and pick the wrong guys just so they can look better in the eyes of people like you???
Love or cash? Honestly, it just comes down to a person's own internal compass. It’s all about what you value most. You see people crying about how things used to be, acting like that old-school way of life was some kind of golden era, but back then, money—or whatever currency actually meant something—was always at the top of the food chain. Now, women at least have the freedom to go out and actually feel something, you know? To trip out and believe they’re actually falling in love. In the old days, it wasn't even like that; you were basically being traded away for two head of cattle, a few pounds of gold, or a couple acres of farmland. It was a transaction, plain and simple.
Look, what you’re talking about—whatever it is you think you’re so disgusted by—isn't some genius concept we just cooked up on a whim in some boardroom; it’s a legacy. It’s a straight-up inheritance passed down through generations of pure survival instinct. We're talking about the fundamental drive for land, cold hard cash, gold, and the reality of putting romance on the back burner just to get ahead. It's built into our DNA.
Look, let’s get one thing straight: falling in love isn't actually about "love" at all. Most of the time, it’s just pure power plays, and honestly, nothing screams power quite like having a massive bank account. Money is the ultimate aphrodisiac—it's basic human nature. It’s nothing new, either; things haven't changed much since the days of the Roman Senate. It's always been this way.
And what about the people who just want to fly out to Bali to relax and actually see what the other side of the world looks like? Honestly, you’re just being a victim of your own prejudices again.
Look, you're definitely one of those people who loves to throw out broad generalizations every chance you get.
You want this too, don't you? This whole letter is nothing more than a desperate cry for attention—a pathetic attempt to finally be noticed and maybe, just maybe, find someone out there who actually thinks like you do.
Do you even have a clue what marginalization actually means? I’m assuming you’re talking about it from a sociological perspective, anyway.
Honestly, you’re being pathetic right now. If it were up to me, I’d pass a federal law banning panhandling entirely. Instead of letting people just beg on street corners, we should be putting that energy into actual programs designed to get young, creative people like you off the streets and into productive careers.
Look, Noah Sanchez7, since tribal times, humans have had to live organized just to stay alive. The ways we organize ourselves just evolve as society gets more advanced.
It’s fine if you hate getting up, it’s fine if you’re lazy, and it’s even fine if you don't like living by the rules...that's just part of being young. But man, it's not okay to turn that into some deep philosophical manifesto. You can literally do work that doesn't require that kind of rigid structure; you could be a free artist and laugh at everyone else who has to deal with all that crap you don't. It's all about CHOICE, and it doesn't take nearly this much mental gymnastics or this much effort to feel bitter.
Maybe for some people it is. Again, we're talking about the right to choose. Show a little respect for the people around you and THEIR choices.
Since when did "McDonald's" count as an "upscale restaurant"????
"How am I supposed to live off this pittance?"... probably.
You honestly think anyone gives a damn about that once they're gone?
Look, everyone lives their own life. And honestly, the answer to most of the questions you're throwing out in this thread really just comes down to how much someone is willing to accept the fact that LIVING has rules—rules that you absolutely HAVE to respect if you want to get anywhere.
Every single form of life has this perfect, built-in structure. Even the way everything connects in the food chain works flawlessly. It’s the same thing whether we're talking about a predator hunting in the Serengeti or some guy in Chicago putting on a tie and dealing with uncomfortable dress shoes. Humans TODAY are incredibly lucky because we have—and I am saying this for the millionth time—the POWER OF CHOICE.
- You can live like the masses, just another cog in the giant machine, thinking a little, working moderately, having enough to get by, and just surviving biologically.
- Or you can live like the minority, refuse to be part of that big machine, think more deeply, work harder, and have whatever amount you manage to pull in through your own setup—whether that's a little or a lot—and survive biologically.
- Or you can do nothing, stay out of the machine, have no real plan or organization, spit on everything, think a lot, work barely at all, have almost nothing, and—well, you don't survive biologically.
I'm genuinely curious here: why would you ever choose that third option, and what exactly is the "beauty" in living like that?
How can you even be sure they're wrong?
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
So, what you're actually asking is if I’m one of those people who’s nostalgic for the "good old days," right? Like, what exactly am I so fond of about how things used to be? Honestly, it’s not some fairy tale version of the past, it's just that everything felt more grounded before everything became a frantic, digital mess. There are still spots on this planet where life moves at a human pace instead of a fiber-optic one, so why wouldn't I want that? And hey, if you think I'm so obsessed with the past, why don't you just pack your bags and head out to one of those places yourself?
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Why? Because people love to claim we just "don't live like we used to."
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Look, the fact that you went down the path of using drugs is the ultimate proof that the system already chewed you up and spit you out. It’s exactly what they want; they suck you in, drain everything you have, and then just toss you aside like nothing.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
I think you’re seriously overestimating your own experience here. The reasons why people actually bail on things are way more layered and complicated than the stuff you're laying out, and honestly, most of those motives start exactly where your little grievances end.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Don't you get that smiling, sucking up, dressing up, and all that extra fluff is just a choice? Your choice is to not do any of it, while someone else chooses to go all out. So what's the actual problem?
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
...it's just a matter of taste...nobody is forcing you to do anything if you don't want to...
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Since when is being a "wreck" some kind of measurement???
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Behind every single effort to be accepted lies the need for an individual to impose and affirm their own value system. There's nothing pathetic about that; if anything, I'd say there's plenty of ruthlessness involved.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Exactly. Everything comes with a price.
Your "better position" is just whatever you feel when you stab someone in the back. To reach that "position," you have to swallow a little—or a lot—of shit first.
I don't see the difference.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
What do you think we'd gain if we were all coated in "uncultured manners"? Would things actually be better?
Fake morality is just the logical byproduct of mediocre social rules. Society forces you to follow the rules that proved most effective for the community's survival, while you as an individual look for space to indulge your own desires that clash with those rules, playing games and bending things just so you don't have to face the consequences.
If you actually stepped out into the middle of Broadway and called your mom to come tie a tire around your wrist, then maybe—just maybe—I’d start believing you finally ditched that fake-ass "moral high ground" you're always preaching about.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
To actually be a "human being"—whatever that means to you, me, or anyone else—it really boils down to one thing: it’s about being a certain kind of entity. It’s not just some vague concept either; it’s about possessing specific qualities that set you apart from just existing.
It all comes down to those raw survival instincts, man. You can study all the manuals you want, but when things actually hit the fan, it’s that gut feeling that keeps you breathing. It's about that primal drive to just stay alive when everything else goes sideways.
I’m talking about being fully dialed in—having that total awareness of who I am, everything I do, and exactly what’s going on in the world around me.
I honestly think that’s a killer combination for any living thing. It’s exactly why we’ve made it this far.
It honestly doesn't matter if you're out there surviving in the middle of the jungle or just grinding away in the heart of New York City. It’s all the exact same game.
Having this level of consciousness, especially when you factor in the ability to actually move around and make things happen in the world, basically hands you the keys to the kingdom—it gives you the power to choose exactly how and where you’re going to express your own humanity.
I mean, where exactly are you getting stuck on this?
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Wait, didn't you just spend that whole time listing nothing but a bunch of your own personal biases about people?
Look, at the end of the day, you’ve gotta put yourself first and prioritize your own needs, because if you don't, you just end up becoming this bitter, resentful mess that eventually becomes nothing more than a massive burden on your community or the people around you. It's simple math: thinking about yourself isn't being selfish, it's a fundamental law of survival, whether you like that reality or not.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
So what are we supposed to do then? Are we just going to tell them to go out and pick the wrong guys just so they can look better in the eyes of people like you???
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Love or cash? Honestly, it just comes down to a person's own internal compass. It’s all about what you value most. You see people crying about how things used to be, acting like that old-school way of life was some kind of golden era, but back then, money—or whatever currency actually meant something—was always at the top of the food chain. Now, women at least have the freedom to go out and actually feel something, you know? To trip out and believe they’re actually falling in love. In the old days, it wasn't even like that; you were basically being traded away for two head of cattle, a few pounds of gold, or a couple acres of farmland. It was a transaction, plain and simple.
Look, what you’re talking about—whatever it is you think you’re so disgusted by—isn't some genius concept we just cooked up on a whim in some boardroom; it’s a legacy. It’s a straight-up inheritance passed down through generations of pure survival instinct. We're talking about the fundamental drive for land, cold hard cash, gold, and the reality of putting romance on the back burner just to get ahead. It's built into our DNA.
Look, let’s get one thing straight: falling in love isn't actually about "love" at all. Most of the time, it’s just pure power plays, and honestly, nothing screams power quite like having a massive bank account. Money is the ultimate aphrodisiac—it's basic human nature. It’s nothing new, either; things haven't changed much since the days of the Roman Senate. It's always been this way.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
And what about the people who just want to fly out to Bali to relax and actually see what the other side of the world looks like? Honestly, you’re just being a victim of your own prejudices again.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Look, you're definitely one of those people who loves to throw out broad generalizations every chance you get.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
You want this too, don't you? This whole letter is nothing more than a desperate cry for attention—a pathetic attempt to finally be noticed and maybe, just maybe, find someone out there who actually thinks like you do.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Do you even have a clue what marginalization actually means? I’m assuming you’re talking about it from a sociological perspective, anyway.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Honestly, you’re being pathetic right now. If it were up to me, I’d pass a federal law banning panhandling entirely. Instead of letting people just beg on street corners, we should be putting that energy into actual programs designed to get young, creative people like you off the streets and into productive careers.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Look, Noah Sanchez7, since tribal times, humans have had to live organized just to stay alive. The ways we organize ourselves just evolve as society gets more advanced.
It’s fine if you hate getting up, it’s fine if you’re lazy, and it’s even fine if you don't like living by the rules...that's just part of being young. But man, it's not okay to turn that into some deep philosophical manifesto. You can literally do work that doesn't require that kind of rigid structure; you could be a free artist and laugh at everyone else who has to deal with all that crap you don't. It's all about CHOICE, and it doesn't take nearly this much mental gymnastics or this much effort to feel bitter.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Maybe for some people it is. Again, we're talking about the right to choose. Show a little respect for the people around you and THEIR choices.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Since when did "McDonald's" count as an "upscale restaurant"????
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
"How am I supposed to live off this pittance?"... probably.
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
You honestly think anyone gives a damn about that once they're gone?
Noah Sanchez7 said:I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Look, everyone lives their own life. And honestly, the answer to most of the questions you're throwing out in this thread really just comes down to how much someone is willing to accept the fact that LIVING has rules—rules that you absolutely HAVE to respect if you want to get anywhere.
Every single form of life has this perfect, built-in structure. Even the way everything connects in the food chain works flawlessly. It’s the same thing whether we're talking about a predator hunting in the Serengeti or some guy in Chicago putting on a tie and dealing with uncomfortable dress shoes. Humans TODAY are incredibly lucky because we have—and I am saying this for the millionth time—the POWER OF CHOICE.
- You can live like the masses, just another cog in the giant machine, thinking a little, working moderately, having enough to get by, and just surviving biologically.
- Or you can live like the minority, refuse to be part of that big machine, think more deeply, work harder, and have whatever amount you manage to pull in through your own setup—whether that's a little or a lot—and survive biologically.
- Or you can do nothing, stay out of the machine, have no real plan or organization, spit on everything, think a lot, work barely at all, have almost nothing, and—well, you don't survive biologically.
I'm genuinely curious here: why would you ever choose that third option, and what exactly is the "beauty" in living like that?
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