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| Image by ღ ♠ Aegir ♠ ღ @ Flickr |
Do you know why I hate incels? And by that, I mean, utterly despise them? Because I was lonely, gawky, frustrated and isolated too, but I didn't use that as an excuse to be, frankly, an overly entitled twat.
Every Saturday night, I'd go to a pub, get drunk, hope to get chatted up, and go home disappointed. And do you know what went through my head as I flopped back home up a steep hill? It wasn't that women were all whores, or that I was somehow a neglected genius and hero of my own tale
It was that I was crap, and since they had the right to choose whomsoever they wished, there was a brutal truth being elucidated here. I wasn't what they wanted, and why would they want to choose me anyway? I had no right to anything.
