Quoted By:
>be me
>be a 27 year old ugly beta loser nofriends autist with no friends or social experiences since school, no female attention ever, never been to pub, club, or party
>wake up at 10 am
>read atlas shrugged for 60 pages
>go running then leave my flat to go in to central London on a hot day
>go to the library
>walk to south Kensington station and realise the Staceys / Chad-Stacey couples are officially out in force due to the heat and a demoralising summer awaits
>randomly go to Whitechapel
>leave station and decline a Muslim leaflet; turn right and see lots of market stalls and Arabic music playing; go back in to station
>go to Shoreditch high Street
>the place is TEEMING with young people in the primes of their lives
>felt like an ugly shitty stain
>make myself walk through brick lane and nearby for the catharsis that will hopefully finally stop the false hope that "jus going outside bro!" will spontaneously stop me feeling like my 20s were wasted
>felt more excruciatingly pathetic than any time in London, even last summer at the Notting hill carnival
>Staceys, attractive upper class yuppies, smug probably property rich 40s hipsters revisiting their fun youths everywhere
>couldn't keep my gaze at head level (looked at the store signs) in case I saw a girl's look of disgust
>nothing left today except the Saturday McDonalds-coffee-lonely self loathing circuit
I felt bad for only reading 60 pages of a book in a sitting. I feel guilty for reading at all because it's a consumercuck activity. I feel bad for not learning maths in my spare time. I feel bad for not doing practical programming stuff in a self taught way without going through tutorials like someone taught to be docile through formal education. But I would feel guilty for programming without going through SICP first. I feel guilty for reading only one book at a time but I felt guilty when in the middle of multiple. I literally don't have the balls to do what I want.
