And so as man lived, he must die alone.

Men are supposed to be alone in their heads. A mushy grey matter reaches in a million different directions, but never touching anything. The feeling of touch reaches a different part of the brain, but not the spot that yearns for more.

The internet does not help men. We shouldn’t be in an echo chamber with other minds. That’s how incels are created.

Read books by men like Hemingway and Hunter S. Thompson. Books like that teach you how to think of something other than pussy.

like me. I’m thinking about the dread of going to work. Seasonal depression fucking with me. I can’t express this to anyone and my dog doesn’t give a shit.

I don’t know if I’ll do a podcast anytime soon.