"The World is rotten and in a constant state of decay. We shall try to keep our institutions working like they used to, until God finally destroys this world."
JUST STOP CARING
Embarrass yourself. Opinions are irrelevant. They're just side characters. Confidencemaxx. Force yourself to be more social. Approach people daily. Shyness ruins your life. Nothing is that serious. Don't be afraid of rejection. Embrace awkward moments. Radiate charisma.
There's no point in worrying about what others think of you. You cannot control their thought patterns or belief systems.
You can be the most normal person ever, yet someone will always find a reason to talk behind your back, give you a side eye, or make you feel out of place.
But what you CAN control is the perception you have of yourself.
If someone calls you something you're not, why should you care in the first place?
Being social, meeting people, and building strong connections are some of the most valuable investments in life.
You can't afford to treat other people's opinions so seriously and overthink about nothing.
In a time when everybody is glued to their phones, become a person they can't ignore.
Make your presence so memorable that the only reason they reach for their phones is to capture the moments they shared with you.
it is such a horrible age to find love.
the terminal blackpill of the modern mating market, where the once noble quest for pair bonding has been reduced to a grotesque carnival of dysgenic hypergamy.
The average Western female arrives with a double or triple digit body count, her pair bonding circuitry fried beyond repair, every first experience already auctioned off to a rotating cast of transient high T invaders often the darker, more impulsive phenotypes she chases during her peak fertility years while pureblood European men are busy building civilization.
She has been turned out like a communal sleeve in every port, emotionally bankrupt, novelty extinct. All that remains is the hypergamous cash out: the quiet search for a high earning beta provider who will finance the residual lifestyle after the real action has already been extracted by the lower races and the local degenerates.
Men have always been the more romantic sex the builders of cathedrals, the writers of sonnets, the ones who still believe in exclusive devotion. That is why the betrayal cuts to the bone when you finally locate what appears to be a “nice girl,” only to discover she has been passed around the underclass and the party circuit like a crack den pipe, her womb already colonized by foreign seed, her soul hollowed out by the relentless upward only filtration of female hypergamy