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22 M Lille, France

My Details

Last Online
Yesterday – 11:58pm
5′ 11″ (1.81m)
Body Type
Strictly other
Agnosticism, and very serious about it
Working on university
Relationship Status
Relationship Type
English (Okay), French (Fluently), German (Poorly)

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My self-summary
I studied philosophy three years because I wanted to do something that, while sounding prestigious, required basically zero work and a lot of bullshitting.

Took me from nowhere to nowhere, but it seems I moved in a way. In refining my capacity to creatively spew crap, I can now spit twurds faster and better. Yay, life-changing achievements!

I don't like myself, and strongly believe you couldnt love anybody if you knew them like they know themselves. I suck, people sucks, I wish I was nothing again.

Life's good. :DDD
What I’m doing with my life
Using this profile to cyberstalk people from around the world I'll never get to meet.

I am trying oh so desperatly to retrieve the quota of motivation and the package goals & passions (tm) which are allocated to all newborn babies by the tough fairy (whos training seal team 6 as a side gig to make ends meet), because apparently someone down the line messed up. Now you know why your labrador won't die and train everyday to become a ballerina.

Pondering on why pretty things are often worthless.

Trying to exsude the same aura as track-suited backward cap-wearing deadbeats, std ridden sudanese whores, and that one hobo always peeing himself in the subway. All at once, but not really cooler because I smell okay and that's not gonna change.
I’m really good at
Being scared of everything most of the time I'm alive and looking like I'm in control of the situation. Faking that alpha-maleness bullshit, in other words.

Being offensive in a refreshing way.

Eating my words with a grain of salt.

Wallowing in a dense, sordid, vulgar, undeserved self-pity.
The first things people usually notice about me
Average height average weight male pink meatbag.
The six things I could never do without
Forgetting that my cute cat would, if I suddently became five inches (for reasons), torture me for hours on end in my own garden before abandoning my dislocated, still living body, for black birds to pick my eyes out.

That wind making you feel like the world is actually there for you, loves you and is softly rubbing you all over in a totally non sexual manner. Keep calm and file a restraining order against the world itself under the judging glare of weirdly aroused policemen calling the nearest psych ward.

That whole idea of a world slowly dying by getting cooked to perfection in the general near-indifference or quickly dying in a nuclear and cleansing and fairly disagreable fire full of radiation in the near general melting of all lifeforms born without a leaden carapace or being half-roach.

Touching my penis through my pants to make sure its there and I didnt dream of that life where a semi-conscious parasitic entity takes control of my brain on the regular, telling me to fuck things.

Unbearable lucidity of my own shitiness.

My dragon dildo.
I spend a lot of time thinking about
How we should have an international game show about people of different countries competing in eating contests, with the winner choosing a patch of land a 100 square miles to nuke into oblivion. The ratings would be insane. The sales of iGeiger too.
Thats marketing for you people, take something that already exists, make it thinner, make it youthul, make it fuckable, sell it overpriced in repugnant barren absurdly white designish streamlined stores. Wait for people who wear simpsons shirts ironically to fester on it, above it, under it, near it, in front of it, that's it: YOU WON THE GAME OF LIFE.

That one conference from David Foster Wallace (you can skip to the middle).

That Bush junior was elected. He was elected. Damn. What the fuck. Hitler too was elected, but let's be honest, he was one sexy little psychopathic minx, with that dang cute mustach clearly asking for it.
Unlike the uncharismatic oister, the most frighteningly accurate depiction of a really dumb baboon prancing around in a suit to ever disgrace the surface of the multiverse by its cheer, shameful, degrading, yuck yuck existence.

How hippies, gypsies, children, old people and animals mauled on the side of the road, (still faintly twitching from nerve induced mindfuckery) make me feel better about the slow burgeoning of a life of failure, bitterness, grudgingly conceded affections, missed opportunities, already wrinkled young regrets, deepened misunderstandings, obstructed communication channels, things done from fear, things done from anger, too few for love or the sake of human decency, too few for the priceless, the timeless, too few for what matters in the end (that's coming) and generally uncool lazyness, aimlessness, sloppyness, neckbeardness, masturbation in kleenexness, plus a fairly deliberate lack of swag.
On a typical Friday night I am
Writing new stuff on my okcupid blog. For none to see. IDGAF. So hardcore.

Laying down. Sitting down. Feeling down. Waiting for the nondescript event in the script to signal that my life has begun, or ended. Because the self inflicted standby with all systems nominal is too cushy, and I aint moving my ass for less than godlike powers on a silver tray. Don't I deserve it?
Of course not. Still, I deserve it, mom universe. Gimme gimme gimme gimme waaaah gimme.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
I read my horoscope with superstitious expectations then complain it isn't accurate like I predicted it wouldn't be. What a scam.

I have a micropenis. Like, 1 inch erect.

I am attracted to girls that look like my mother when she was young. You're disgusted? Imagine what I feel.
I’m looking for
  • Everybody
  • Ages 18–99
  • Located anywhere
  • For new friends
You should message me if
For some reason, talking to this faceless extra will bring something to your protagonistic self it couldnt find elsewhere.