im an unbelievable god

[MVP]

i got used to a life without money and sex as if it was nothing
i feel better than ever before! i dont need anything, i just feel good all day anyway

my iq is explosive

no one is smarter than me

only i matter

fuck this user of the year tournament

everyone knows i am the most famous PSL'er after Elliot Rodger

you are all little sons of bitches

for me you are all little cunts and whores

foids are NOTHING

other humans are NOTHING

the most perverse thing is, in the future i might even become a billionaire and slay a lot, but that doesnt even interest me, it doesnt matter, i dont care if it doesnt happen

i am already complete and only getting better without really trying at all

im chilled, laid back, i dont even need internet, as it just causes me back pain, i just lay in my bed watching tv and youtube on tv

the little workcelling i do is easy as fuck

you will never reach my level of enlightenment

i won at life





@RuudVanNistelrooy
@kathisterima
@Honest

[MVP]

@Dreckssau
@Noonz
@n9wiff
@sin
@prince of shitskins

[MVP]

i am everything you want to be

show me one human who has no money no sex and still feels good all day all night?

its all about neurotransmitters and lack of pain and suffering

i finally have it all now.

the money and bitches that might come in the future is just the icing on the cake, i dont even need that, lol

u cannot imagine how someone can be so enlightened...

i am nothing like you, i am... above you, way above

[MVP]

i've been through hell and finally arrived at heaven

[towncel]

Do you honestly think if aliens saw this with the caption "Lowest form of life in the universe" they would doubt it?

[Noonz]

[Dreckssau]

Your drivel is a grotesque parody of enlightenment, a shrill cacophony of delusion and vanity. You shout to the world that you need nothing, yet your every word reeks of the desperate need for validation. You sneer at others as 'little sons of bitches'—how pathetic! Only a man tormented by his own insignificance needs to trample others to feel tall. You bark of your intelligence, but true genius has no need for proclamation; it shines like a quiet flame. Yours is the noise of a fool striking two stones together, hoping to spark a fire.

You are not 'complete,' as you claim—you are empty. Your existence—spent lounging in bed, numbing yourself with the flickering drivel of YouTube—resembles that of a mollusk, not a man. Idle vegetation, masking itself as superiority. Even beasts of burden contribute more to this world than you do, and yet they are humble in their toil. You, on the other hand, preen and boast, imagining yourself the master of life while accomplishing precisely nothing.

And these pathetic proclamations of detachment—‘money and sex mean nothing to me’—only prove how desperately you crave both. A man who is truly free of desire does not speak of his freedom; he simply is. Your grotesque need to compare yourself to others, to proclaim your ‘IQ’ and your ‘victory,’ reveals a man not at peace but in constant, screaming agony, too cowardly to admit it even to himself.

You are no enlightened sage. You are a loudmouthed buffoon, whose attempts at profundity collapse under the weight of your own hollowness. A man like you will never win at life, for he is already defeated—beaten not by others, but by the pathetic shadow he mistakes for himself.

[MVP]

Your drivel is a grotesque parody of enlightenment, a shrill cacophony of delusion and vanity. You shout to the world that you need nothing, yet your every word reeks of the desperate need for validation. You sneer at others as 'little sons of bitches'—how pathetic! Only a man tormented by his own insignificance needs to trample others to feel tall. You bark of your intelligence, but true genius has no need for proclamation; it shines like a quiet flame. Yours is the noise of a fool striking two stones together, hoping to spark a fire.

You are not 'complete,' as you claim—you are empty. Your existence—spent lounging in bed, numbing yourself with the flickering drivel of YouTube—resembles that of a mollusk, not a man. Idle vegetation, masking itself as superiority. Even beasts of burden contribute more to this world than you do, and yet they are humble in their toil. You, on the other hand, preen and boast, imagining yourself the master of life while accomplishing precisely nothing.

And these pathetic proclamations of detachment—‘money and sex mean nothing to me’—only prove how desperately you crave both. A man who is truly free of desire does not speak of his freedom; he simply is. Your grotesque need to compare yourself to others, to proclaim your ‘IQ’ and your ‘victory,’ reveals a man not at peace but in constant, screaming agony, too cowardly to admit it even to himself.

You are no enlightened sage. You are a loudmouthed buffoon, whose attempts at profundity collapse under the weight of your own hollowness. A man like you will never win at life, for he is already defeated—beaten not by others, but by the pathetic shadow he mistakes for himself.