This half-delusion? Instrusive thought? Bizarrish but most likely untrue idea? That my uncle raped my mother and is my a biological father. And my "real" father is actually just a family friend to cover the whole thing up or alternatively. They switched and my dad is my uncle (my uncle is my other grandparent's kid not my mom's actual brother blaha blaha parental grandparents and materal grandparents conspire to hide the truth).It's kind of distressing because my "evidence" is as existent as my vagina. I don't have evidence,evidence. Isn't it convient that it's an unfalsiable claim/a complete result of my imagination and highly unprobable.I just don't trust any of my family, so even if I asked legitmately once and for all.Is he my biological father? Also it'd explain why I feel intellectually disabled. Or maybe that's what caused this "belief" or idea. I feel like I am the result of being an incest baby so therefore I imagined I am legitmately one..
Perfection is:A thin woman with a hairy pussy,and shaved head. And reproducing is the ugliest act you can do. I hate you and your ugly crotch goblin babies. I'm not an anti-natalist, but I am a misanthrope.I hate you if you reproduce so by extension I am utmost disappointed when the "I am lesbian" people end up not being such.One I knew had a child unfortunately.I prefer dykes, I prefer fags. I prefer people that don't exist. How about a joke? A man walks up to a group of friends at the local cemetery. They ignore his presence. "Hey guys!" No response. "Silent treatment again? Really guys?". The groundskeeper chases him out.."I told you,you can't come here at night! These are closing hours" He is scared out of his wits ..."Oh phew...I thought you were my dead friend talking to me.I'd be concerned I need a mental health evaluation.."
People are loud,annoying and boring. I am no around them a lot. And I do owe a lot to them.But a lot of the time I hate people and sometimes legitimately hate every single fucking thing about them.I go on rants to myself but I need to stop that aloud is no place for misanthropic spewing. I don't wanna say anything too violent,concerning or worrying. I end up saying a bunch of suicidal things. Like the whole thing being worthless and what not. I tried leaving this garbage in 2024. But I am not a changed person.
Parasite. The weatherman predicts as does the fortune teller. She bring great stinky.She believes soap should be made with her own fat. Therefore she can't make or use soap because it requires fat which she has none. The weather is midwestern. The weather brings the wrath of the most sadistic dominatrixes in the world.Coldness.Harshness,heat,death from heat stroke. Now you burn, Now you freeze. I don't wanna drink my own winky in a coffee mug. I am compulsively doing that at times. I am a urine fetishist. It's gross please kill me. I hate it.I hate food. I hate eating. I hate being hungry all the time or empty. I am hollow.I am fucked.I am kangaroo man. I wish I was a pouch animal.I wish I was a mother. I wish I lived somewhere else,with someone else and had something else to do besides this whiney bullshit
Guestbook
I came across this guy by accident reading through satanism,Shane Bugbee, Anton Lavey or other occult subjects.I didn't read all of his works nor do I endorse,believe,follow,or anything.I just find some of the ideas interesting. Schizopherenics and other mentally ill people are of course disorienated and bizarre but there is wisdom in madness.DI believe there to be a type of divine madness-like phenoma but only I'm secular/skeptical of everything including my own perceptions,beliefs,ideas,habits,etc.