Beta Railfan

To think, that as I walked down the street, there were girls legally offering themselves to me at a price. These girls weren’t ugly, but had a certain beauty them that could turn on the average male. Dressed in ways to isolate them and isolate them from the rest of the female population, there was little to hint at the reason for their existance. Regardless for what the money went to, these women were working, and looked clean enough given their job. On a hot night, there were many sweaty men looking for such women.
Yet, I avoided temptation. I merely walked by and made my way back to the tram, and slowly made my way back to the hotel where I kept to myself in traditional fashion, and jerked myself to sleep. Those girls may had heels, slutty clothing, and sexual expression written in their bodies but it was missing that element of desire that makes a man want a woman. Otherwise, it becomes a session of masturbation with a human as an expensive, warm aid, and less an expression of mutual satisfaction and enjoyment. It’s not beautiful, or even a game of adult tag, but a simple, cold, clinical transaction.

I had the privledge of exploring the Green Line, and the line itself is far more friendly when compared to the Red Line, particularly due to the interesting ROW which features a mix of at grade, tunnel, and elevated stretches. Despite accidents, questionable operating funding, and manual operation, WMATA is still one my favourite systems. The basics are still there with relatively high acceleration, respectable maximum allowable speed, and decent looking rolling stock.

When she wears her glasses, she looks like my Wellesley Queen.Why do I want to cuddle with her?Why do I want to hug her?She’s whiny and she has a kid.She isn’t hot, and certainly she isn’t gorgeous.She doesn’t even have nails.Why do I watch her every step when she moves around at work?why do I want to sit next to her whenever she’s there?Why am I willing to do anything for her?Because with glasses, she looks like my Wellesley Queen.

Does an omega male that gives up on women and not care anymore about attracting them magically become alpha? Judging from her response, the question is no, and omega males will always remain omega males. It doesn’t matter whether they stop having caring about attracting women because the status will always remain unless by the grace of God, one can upgrade their status into something a little less offensive.

Regardless, Sofia does have a point. I am boring and vacuous. I am not attractive and have no sex appeal at all. I have no skills or talents. My conversations with Athena or any of the women in my life are all one-sided with me being a good little puppy and listening. I have very little to offer given that I am not interesting, attractive, or rich, so there’s little reason to explain why girls shouldn’t like me. Unlike other women, at least Sofia has the strength to admit it in a public forum.

Of course, some will say that one should improve himself, but quite frankly I’m too lazy and tired to even consider it, and there’s very little gain. I’d still end up with girls that are far less attractive than Sofia or Athena with even far more issues. I’ll never be attractive to the “right” type of woman, nor will I ever attract the hyper sexualized women that I lust after. It’s just easier to remain in place, remain alone, and moan on a seventh rate blog about my trivial problems.

Girls can not like me.

Girls will never like me.

Girls should never like me.

My grandmother received a wire transfer from one of her friends in Canada, and like always, I had been tasked with picking it up in a town a few miles away from me. So, like a good little boy, in the rain, I drove the fifteen minutes to the barber shop where the agent was located. After parking the car, my mom notes that she’s going to stay inside because of the rain. Contrary to what she expected, I demanded that she go with me. Of course, she’s shocked thinking that it would be an easy process not requiring any effort on her part, and I explain to her that since it’s a Haitian barbershop, her superior Kreyol skills would be of use here. Of course, she noted that I managed to do it by myself before at another shop, but I explained that the entire process was awkward at best. So she eventually relented, and escorted me into the barber shop. She asked for the office which was in the back of the store, and she spoke to the man while I stood in the back making sure not to look at him. I merely handed him my ID and transfer number when asked in English, and said “merci” when done. At the end, mother did wonder what was so scary about that, and I explained that they’re “different”. Of course, what I really meant was that a bunch of Kreyol speaking middle aged Haitian men in a barbershop was scary. Realistically, what could they have done except make fun of me in some obscure Kreyol phrases while standing in the office? Yet, that was the fear. Weird or dirty looks, people talking about me behind my back, stuff that most people may ignore by adulthood but still haunt me to this day. So if I need mommy to take me into a strange place for a simple errand, how the hell am I going to deal with the task of finding, meeting, and maintaining a girlfriend?

Is it a sign of mental illness to consider exterminating one’s own race? Is it a sign of mental illness to do that in the middle of mass? Have I read too much race realist/human biodiversity stuff that I can no longer function properly? I’ve come to the point where sitting at my desk and going on the Internet has become a depressing endeavor, and very little is capable of cheering me up. It’s one thing to find out that you’re incapable of ever having a woman desire you, but it’s another to discover that you’re in a functionally useless race that will never amount to anything, and that you’ll always be the scorn of others. At some point, I used to believe that we could save black people and crush the evil racists, but it’s all for naught. It seems that the only way that blacks will ever be saved is through death, and the only way the rest of the world will be happy will be through our disappearance.

So while others are quietly praying or ogling the teenage girls, I’m left pondering whether or not it would be best to eliminate the black population. A sad, yet painful discovery of the truth.

Was today like any other Sunday at Church? Not really, as our homily was diverted into a small five minute segment begging for money from our local diocese. A woman from Catholic Charities was detailing how the programme helped her son, and how they help many others in our community, and of course, she ended with a plea asking for us to consider a donation to ensure that the programme has the funds to keep operating. Mind you, this post isn’t about donating to Catholic Charities or any other non-profit entity, but about this woman’s son.

She told her son’s story about his drug use during his teen years, and how the drugs consumed him turning him into a shell of his former self. Using Catholic Charities, she was able to find a treatment program and secure insurance reimbursement. Yet, it isn’t the important part in this portion of the post.

She noted that her son was able to get off drugs and lives happily with wife, his fourteen year old step son, and newborn daughter. From what she said in terms of the years passed, he’s roughly thirty years old and sells mobile plans. In an earlier period, I would have noted that he managed to turn around his life, and he has a wonderful family as the reward. Sadly, knowing what I know now, I’m left wondering if he didn’t entrap himself into a situation that’s nearly as bad as the drug addiction. He’s stuck having to support his new child, the product of the alpha sex session, and a woman with questionable motives. There’s a small part of me that wonders if it would have been better for him to stay on drugs. It would have ruined his life, but is that any worse than having to take care of a single mom and her alpha spawn? It’s hard to imagine that this guy is an alpha given the choice in women that he’s made, and his low wages prevent him from being a beta provider to woman of a better and higher social rank and quality. So, we’re left with a low ranking beta left cleaning up the messes of an alpha male. It’s sad to see a young man waste away his time, talent, and energy on a woman that won’t love him, but our society will not let these pretty lies perish.

brain hurts, house cold, body horny, me want to club submissive women and turn them into real equal humans

me don’t like old dominant people because they steal hugs away from david and lock them up with other men, me like roissy cause pump and dump means girls who hug me while waiting for pounding and swallowing

me wants to ride train, but too lazy sad paranoid and cheap, me wants to rent car but same bad reasons apply, me stay at home like usual

me finally sick of plus grandir and alejandro

me not dominant, me not submissive, me just weird, you dominant bad evil and make my Jesus cry, you submissive broken and weird and need fixing

me sleep