Or I just become violently angry and think how if I ever had a son I’d just break his will/personality till I can mold him into the aggressive jock douchebag I delusionaly believe would’ve gotten me laid. Like, I’ll never fucking have a child anyway, and even if I did I’m 90% sure by the time he’s my age (21) relationships will have ceased to exist, but at least I’d have the pride of knowing I made a monster that could be happy in a way I never could.

At times like these all I can think of is how awesome it would be to die fighting for the cause, that’s it, just die in a revolution against this decadent society and enter heaven or hell as a hero.

Fuck, I wish my brain was never broken