I Am The Fucking Hardest Hustler In The World. This Is Savage Part 2. Don't Tell Me About Shit. It's 2025 And I'm Still A Savage. Whatever I Want I Get Whatever I Want I Fucking Get.
I Am The Fucking Hardest Hustler In The World. This Is Savage Part 2. Don't Tell Me About Shit. It's 2025 And I'm Still A Savage. Whatever I Want I Get Whatever I Want I Fucking Get.
I pretty much refuse to do anything particularly risky substance-wise. I don't drink or smoke weed. I have my reasons, those that I'll explain soon enough. But more notably, and I'm sure this may come as a surprise, I am on zero meds. Please understand that I find zero pleasure in pretty much everything and, even before anhedonia started beating my ass, all of this seemed extremely unappealing to me on the basis of one reason and one reason only:
that being of course the disgusting level of vulerability shown on display-- usually in public places (as a consequence and not by choice)-- and how disgusted I am every time at the sight of it.
"I couldn't fathom being THAT guy" was always the first thing that came to mind, a surefire mantra which allows me to flex my ego's massive penis (of course, to make up for my admittedly tiny ass dick in the reality) as a reaction to these people's actions that I just could not imagine justifying beforehand. People stumbling around, grazing against walls and holding their heads over toilet bowls trying to vomit for like 15 minutes (or alternatively, the sink, and have that just sitting there for a day. I wasn't particularly uncomfortable at all.) Never really found the fun in having to reap what I sowed. Then again, I am a very strong proponent of antisocial behavior, as I proceed go around and complain about the distant, asexual, and socially retarded feeling of 21st century living. It's just that none of it has never sat right with me and also that the smell of bad weed makes me very fucking angry. That much mid in one place warrants drug-induced schizophrenia. Alcohol smells and tastes like piss too. It's all fake. It's all a psychological operation. I've been lied to by every adult figure in my life and now I'm exiting The Matrix (1999) like Andrew Tate. I wept beneath the cross and told God that lolicon pornography would be my only vice. He told me it was the right thing. I slept blissfuly that night knowing that His words affirmed my piety.
Don't worry though, I have actual reasons.
Firstly, I'm very concerned about my own personal health. I eat like shit sometimes but I always remember to get what I need in my body, sleep 6 hours a day at the absolute minimum, and take various suppliments to promote growth and prolonged bodily function. Alcohol, whether it be in moderation or in excess, poses a direct threat to my modus operandi. It feels like every so often there's some more horrifying shit about what any sort of regular level of alcohol consumption does to your body. Yeah no thank you. I guess the same logic applies to weed as well. When I was about 13-14 I started using CBD oil somewhat regularly in order to ease my emotions and any sort of hyperactivity. Worked pretty well, but it sort of weighs you down the same way that melatonin might. I however have never touched weed out of praxis. It's always the most retarded people with a massive "POTHEAD" sign on their back on the planet I see dragging themselves around talking about the shit every other sentence. I refuse to be associated with such people. This is somehow my least contrarian opinion.
Secondly, my metabolism is from hell. My hunger is majorily surpressed by RCPD (which by proxy makes me unable to vomit, which should actually make drinking a little more advantageous, but no🤚thank you.), which means that if I just listen to my body's signals as they appear, I'll end up losing weight considerably. This leads me to "overeat" as a way of combating this; my goals usually set on gaining weight for the purpose of gaining muscle. Most of the time I ended up maintaining it at best. Between my exercise habits, my innate freakishly high metabolic rate, and the vitamins I ingest which aid in its function, I am a metabolism demon. This has allowed me to draw a very easy conclusion: DO NOT FUCK WITH EDIBLES. Even though I see ingesting THC as a much more "civil" way of taking it, I'd never do so myself as a result of this. I'm already prone to paranoid delusions, imagine all of that shit hitting you at once. That may be how I turn into Terry A. Davis. Or like, you know, just end up going to urgent care. This dilemma is the driving factor behind why I don't try my hand.
That's really about it. There's also the topic of hard drugs, opioids, and addicts, to which that can be answered as simply as saying that those people can only save themselves, and it usually involves some moment of lucidity in the form of something horrific happening to them or someone they love. It's never like that when you're rich though. What I'm trying to say is that we're going to have Charli XCX facing the wall when we win. Fuck with me.