Damned if I Do…

This is always how it ends up. I delete my account. I break all contact. Because I never get anything right.

I’m too fucking old for this shit. I invest time and effort to help people. Offer encouragement. A kind word.

There’s no payoff. I just fuck it up. When will I learn that I can’t be on forums or social media?

I think I just did. Got slapped in the fuckin mouth. Another account deleted, another app uninstalled. I don’t ever want to go back, either. Cause this time, it got me nervous and then it got scary.

Because some people are fakes, wolves in sheep’s clothing. Everywhere, and you’re best off keeping to yourself. Don’t encourage others to be safe. They take offense. How dare a retard like me give anyone advice?

And if someone claims that you’re okay just as you are, don’t believe them. If they meant it, they wouldn’t have to say it. Beware the liars who have no criticism of you. Soon enough, it will change. Now you have a bridge you can be certain is worthy of being burned.

There are those who attack you, no matter the forum. Then there’s those two-faced ones with nice chat who suddenly hint that you’ve overstepped with your questions or assumptions. They’re going to hurt you. A person like me should never have friends. I’ll fuck it up. Then comes the part where they bitch slap you.

I was meant to be, and to die, alone, friendless, forgotten. I finally know how to do it. So there’s that. I only have family as friends on Meta. That…is as far as I go. No man can avoid his destiny. And I’ll never try to again. I’m just one of those dense motherfuckers who is slow to learn and slower still to apply that knowledge. This time I’ll get it right.