I'm black-pilled, or more accurately something just slightly on the other side of it (but don't get your hopes up) and I totally agree with this sentiment.
I was born into a black pill and the only two people I have every truly hated were the ones who forced that, through situational circumstances, to be my default neuro-reality. Those pathways have been ground in and reinforced for decades. They erased me before I even had a chance. Anyone who knows any info about me can't quite resolve why I won't "share my story" for the supposed greater good. Or, in other words: they are mind-boggled that I am not attracted to the sensationalism and potential shekels to be had from being an actual victim of anything other than my own imagination. I have had many carrots dangled in front of me by those who would like to profit from my unfortunate experiences, and my answer is always the same: no, it's the wrong thing to do.
I eventually grew my own carrots, but deep down I know that they are not tasty, nutritious carrots. They are FUCK YOU, DAD (et al) carrots. The only true sustenance I have had in my life is as an observer of those who are not as damaged as I am. You are the only hope.
Most people, on some level, know the sausage exists and the flavor profile, thereof. When they want to know how the sausage is actually made, I do my best to answer honestly while also being neurotically mindful of the soul death that those answers could bring...solely aware of how close their well-meaning but unsuspecting fingers are dangling to the grinder. It feels murderous to share any of it, even upon request. I can't imagine barfing my personal hopelessness all over the world, unsolicited.
Reality based white pills are where it's at. You all give me a reason to hope on your behalf, and for your future.
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FurstMetternich ago
Black pillers are almost as bad as traitors.
Ro_Wallensdotter ago
I'm black-pilled, or more accurately something just slightly on the other side of it (but don't get your hopes up) and I totally agree with this sentiment.
I was born into a black pill and the only two people I have every truly hated were the ones who forced that, through situational circumstances, to be my default neuro-reality. Those pathways have been ground in and reinforced for decades. They erased me before I even had a chance. Anyone who knows any info about me can't quite resolve why I won't "share my story" for the supposed greater good. Or, in other words: they are mind-boggled that I am not attracted to the sensationalism and potential shekels to be had from being an actual victim of anything other than my own imagination. I have had many carrots dangled in front of me by those who would like to profit from my unfortunate experiences, and my answer is always the same: no, it's the wrong thing to do.
I eventually grew my own carrots, but deep down I know that they are not tasty, nutritious carrots. They are FUCK YOU, DAD (et al) carrots. The only true sustenance I have had in my life is as an observer of those who are not as damaged as I am. You are the only hope.
Most people, on some level, know the sausage exists and the flavor profile, thereof. When they want to know how the sausage is actually made, I do my best to answer honestly while also being neurotically mindful of the soul death that those answers could bring...solely aware of how close their well-meaning but unsuspecting fingers are dangling to the grinder. It feels murderous to share any of it, even upon request. I can't imagine barfing my personal hopelessness all over the world, unsolicited.
Reality based white pills are where it's at. You all give me a reason to hope on your behalf, and for your future.