feeling down?

me two. i genuinely hold a belief that i’m not supposed to be alive. a good life shouldn’t be this dark.

the story always begins with mind. so. when i’m left alone with my consciousness, i can’t simply hold back anymore.

i don’t know what to write about. so, i’ll try anyways until it starts flowing nicely.

3:34am. half a cohiba burning low. so is a scented candle. a can of pablo mango ice number... idk. i’ve lost count. bromantane dissolved a few hours ago & its doing this where i feel lowkey invincible. like all the molecules in the air are moving to me. bizarre. but done beautifully. probably links back to science. i don’t care. feels divine.

satisfying clicks of my keyboards echoing around the lab. i could just get into bed. i probably should. my girl is no longer awake. but a late night negroni won’t drink itself.

before she drifted off she said something very interesting...

“do you ever just... stop?”

left speechless. i looked at her properly. up and down. up and down. the way you look at someone when trying to get a reaction.

“what”

“you know... we never spend time together. you’re too obsessed with it. do you ever exist... without the mission?

i said yes. because that’s what she wanted to hear. and she knows i am lying. i am not trynna fade away.

but i respect her too much to reveal everything i am feeling. the wound of this truth would be impossible to heal. so i stay silent.

technically...

i rarely speak. i’d rather put my thoughts down onto a paper. there is no shame in this. paper doesn’t judge.

never became too attached to a certain way of thinking. to do so is death. whatever comes to mind i align into elements that feel authentic to me. not so much rational.

a purified mind is an art. and using it to pursue greatness i became an artist. and no. it still mustn’t be rational.

simply catching the lows & feeding into the highs. like everyone, i feel down way too often, even gods have their bad days.

however. its what you do when you catch a low, that makes you convert it into a high.

i like the dark. its friendly. but its also when i am at my lowest.

per usual… i can spend limitless hours making rare gems with my laptop, being the only awake person at the gym actually putting in the work, and sit secluded from oneself where i am in no control where my thoughts direct me.

the darkest hours is when i feel the grind slipping away the most.

interestingly… its also when i enjoy it most.

why?

you could say that i am trying to cope. but no. the feeling of hitting rock bottom is what ultimately breeds a winner.

everyone hates a winner. though it ain’t envy at play. being jealous over someone’s success is somewhat temporary. instead what happens is mfs know they could achieve this too if they sacrificed a few years to put in the work, but they’d rather die without even trying.

who can beat a inhuman guy that turns all lemons into lemonades? barely anyone. and whoever gets close is going through the exact same motions. until you find a worthy opponent, just pivot even higher so catching up to you is almost impossible.

so, no. i don’t stop.

i can’t.

i simply can’t.

and its not some repressed trauma instilled into my mind. i have a few, but i know it ain’t it.

neither is it a mental disorder anymore. there is a certain level of psychopathy you go through when you are on the comeup. it helps when closing deals. or swooping girls.

this is the biggest enemy for the newcomers. I’ll be real. you either adapt. or DIE.

you will never stop feeling down. the reason you see others so happy and giddy is because they have nothing going on for them. its repulsing.

the results will always be subpar. until you hit a jackpot.

but did you ever think about it deeply tho?

what if the reason most guys feel lost & hopeless… is because they are trying to be ONE thing?

one identity.

one personality.

and the guys like us feel… more alive & maniac…. lowkey bordering on psychotic?

somehow we tend to always find the good in bad. and make the best of it.

a few cigarettes lit & a raspy voice whispering within our psyche that we are not good enough. how can we be satisfied with anything?

with this prerequisite… like a god. i never try to be a one thing. i’d rather be a 7 in all areas of life, than a 10 in one.

there is this urge of being omni everything i can’t satisfy yet.

as of now. still with a half empty glass of negroni in hand… i am…

a influential writer dissecting the full architecture of mind control & persuasion at a level that would put most wannabe copywriters to sleep. anything to hypnotise a few inferior minds.

a lifelong student of human emotions so deep into the abyss that i am able to read a stranger’s attachment style from they hold their cup of coffee. moreso, i can tap into a supernatural insight mode and collect a girl’s digits by simply smiling at her.

an alchemist running a self researched neurological experiment on his own brain every given day. adjusting compounds & doses perfectly until i find the holy grail of performance/focus/cold detachment/creativity. i am my own human experiment.

a semi pro athlete who maxes out every lift and does so until complete and utter failure. finishing off with brutal cardio on the heavy bag. i train to knock someone’s lights out, not to be a functional twink.

an immoral philosopher who looks at the dark life through colourful lens. i value everyone and everything. everyone plays on different timelines, and there is enough bread to break. i am trying to solve humanity’s problems and understand the nature of being. so i really have no time to waste. but until i know everything, i simply know nothing.

a playboy lover boy who set his life to being desirable by girls. most girls are kinky as fuck deep down. and the worst ones of them all are the virgins. beware. but don’t be afraid to play a little. pair it with maxing out aesthetics and leave them wondering why your clothes are still on. its too easy.

all of this. and i am supposed to be satisfied with one?

i set the bar so high. that i can’t simply afford to stick to one identity.

sometimes when everything feels flat. and the excitement for the game diminishes. i realise i can just tap into a different identity. like a in game character.

i am just a man who lives in delusion and fantasy world. but you are already aware of that. however. i do love the uncertainty and the risk that comes with being a different level of being.

to have sight but no vision is a deadly disease. when you feel little in your fantasy world, you become little in real life.

and remember the people who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world. the fantasy and the real one. are the ones who actually do.

i am crazy enough. probably in the highest percentile possible. and it raises up daily. but i think I AM finally getting my spark back.

i contain multitudes. and the multitudes contain even more multitudes.

the immoral philosophy feeds the writing, the writing prints money for the experiments, the stims i experiment with optimise the training, and that develops aesthetics needed to swoop girls easily, cherish it for a bit, then build rapport and collect field data that feeds into the psychology of deep human nature, so i can deepen my philosophy.

its a self feeding loop. essential domains optimised to feed from one another. and as everything in life… it compounds over time.

there really is no time to feel at my lowest.

i keep myself busy so i never have to experience it for long enough. after all, i have upmost control over who i am.

whoever i am right now.

it doesn’t matter.

as long as i am pleased with the results.

and that, can only be acquired by living your own life, maxing out every stat possible, and pursuing excellence.

nobody prepares you for how lonely it gets. because it does. it gets really really dark at the top. but at least you got a few characters you can play with.

doesn’t matter what it is. its your life. as long as you are happy with what you are doing, and it brings you peace of mind.

dostoyevsky once said “the soul is healed by being with children”

I am not going to make any pedo jokes. with enough research we could probably spot him on the epstein files tbf. but i think he was dead wrong.

I genuinely think the soul healed by being with yourself. and questioning life underneath a lonely tree…

“what am i becoming?”

i can’t give you a clear answer.

i don’t know it myself.

all i know is that its not human. no longer one.

its something else that is trying to find its way out the hole.

sooner or later, it will.

so. don’t be scared to welcome it with open arms. its the answer you have been wishing for so long.

and the point of all this?

there is no point. that’s the point. the point of no return.

moving from a one dimensional life to a rare multidimensional utopia where everything is possible.

if you still think its impossible… show me why. if you can’t find enough reason. well… then its possible with enough effort.

that’s the game inside the game.

& its lonely asf in here. but the loneliness is purely a sound of distance between you and the inferior species.

everyone goes through ups and downs. it really is inevitable.

but now… you have all the info to fight back. and be the rare anomaly amongst others.

plenty more inside the schizo hub. tap here to join up.

the anomaly always wins.

and that’s the reason to live.

i think i finally found what i wanted to write about…

glass is empty. but i am full of life.

and i will leave you with that.

stay schizo.

g2Ø.

p.s fuck twitter/x for letting some twinks hack me. substack coming out strong as always. time to make it my main platform. exciting stuff.