I failed at major life milestones. But I haven’t killed anyone with my car. Gone to jail, etc. It’s a wash. As much money as a dropout coke addict starting from negative net worth could expect. I don’t spend it. As a “high score” it’s pathetic compared to any autistic person. I’m better than I was. But I’m about to hit 46 and my big achievement over COVID was 20 grand on therapy to give up my dream of a wife and kid.
It did work. I’m not tortured by it anymore. Tortured by normal male nitpicks now. Money pussy going bald, etc. Foot and ankle problems. Like being nipped by lizards instead of cobra venom spat in your eyes. Definitely better. I’m glad I don’t have a wife and kid. I kind of hate women and children. I can walk from my job at any time.
Someone put horny pills in the e-girls’ water. Women DM from everywhere but where I live saying they want to be with me. It does feel good. But I just want to wrap them in a warm blanket. Tell them to buy Vanguard ETFs. Keep a journal. Do you want to fuck my hot pussy, they say, and I say please eat your vegetables.
I skipped ahead to grandpa. My lechery’s gone. Was it God or a thyroid tumor. God or the flame retardants in my furniture. I still want pussy but it doesn’t help my ego. Pussy’s a utility. There’s the gas bill and the pussy bill.
People send me piles of papers. Tax forms for my income streams. Long books on what my insurance doesn’t cover, etc. Business documents are warrants for your death. I put them in a stack on the table. It entropically becomes a heap that falls over. I throw them away. The way of all flesh. I have a long time before I die.
Can’t get jacked off at massage places anymore. Some chemical they put on the sheets started giving my cock a rash. Too bad because I found a good one. Girl under 40 who talks about her two cats. She says life in America’s good. When I’m tired I sleep. When I’m thirsty I drink, she says. Like I would date this person if she weren’t a FOB. How is she sucking dick across from the tire shop. How am I plagued by Microsoft Teams notifications. How did life end up here, you wonder. How can I serve the next generation. Now that my genes aren’t part of it.
My genes, my dreams killed themselves on a cliff like a Mishima scene. It takes longer than you think. Hacking at it while the sun crawls up over the waves. I’m a ghost now. Shuffling around invisibly making people vaguely cold. Behind you half a second in the mirror. I impart inscrutable horseshit you’ll ignore. Keep a journal, you’ll be happy later–yeah get the fuck out of my face old man. Tell me you want my hot pussy. I want to screen cap it.
I’m a safe person to talk to. I want to split open your hairy muff and just sniff it. I want to get you pregnant and leave town and change my name. I want to wrap you in a warm blanket. I want to assist your writing career. I want to loosen your asshole over days with my pinky and then gradually thicker fingers I spit on and then push my dickhead into it when you’re drunk and prematurely ejaculate. I’ll never hurt you. You can tell me anything. I want to suck your little tits and blast in you. And I’d be thrilled to send you a check every month thereafter for 18 years but in 3 months you’ll barely remember me. You’ll be on some other guy with money or who’s just nearby. You’re a crafty little elf. This is not about you.
delicioustacos 
Sometimes the best you can do is climb out of the pit you’ve dug for yourself. Get back to level ground. The natural happiness of a child. Back to enjoying the small things. Gazing upon sunrises and sunsets without feeling that rattling emptiness in your heart.
Glad to hear you’re sober. But only because drinking was going to kill you. It’s not for everyone but I still have a good time getting drunk. Maybe I should let it become a problem and then I can sober up and feel a sort of victory in life.
Also glad to hear you’re not tormented by pussy anymore. I’m not there yet. You give me some hope. I think you’ve written somewhere that writing can make people feel less alone. It has that effect on me. Your writing does this. Probably doesn’t do much for you to hear that but it has to count for a little more than nothing.
Ps send those egirls my way.
Thank you.
Yeah. Your writing gave a voice to my life experiences. Gave me a vocabulary. I just used to be trapped in anxiety before I saw your writing, it isn’t like that anymore, I can articulate my anxiety better, and while it doesn’t always remove it, it does almost always make me feel less anxious. The only bother now is that while writing is indispensable, it turns out it doesn’t solve everything – the 20grand you spent on therapy says so.
Do write about staying sober more, if you can. You could describe a drug high in interesting ways, in ways that made one want to experience it. Maybe you can write about sobriety in a similar way.
I saw once in a movie, a guy was high off coke and he had a boxing-type punching bag in his apartment that he was hitting randomly. I remembered your quote from years ago that said “a heroin newbie nods off their high, and an oldhead gets high and can dance around shadowboxing.” – I laughed and laughed, and wished I could tell the people around that “Delicious Tacos described this shit so accurately”.
This is what happens to western dudes. Especially ones in LA.
Meanwhile some of us moved to the real world, ie. eastern Europe, Asia, most of anywhere basically besides north America and western Europe. We have all the kids we want, all the attractive women we want.
Literally sitting here, being 44 and all, with a cute, well educated, awesome physique-d 23 year old Asian girl trying to make a case for why she should have some babies next. That’s real life for real men, outside of the stupid self obsessed, corporate media controlled shitpile that is Tacos chosen domicile.
You had two options, all along: GTFO and make a real life, or stay in the semi gilded cage till they take your balls.
Balls it is.
The pussy is better that’s for sure, but you also feel alienation. People see you as a foreigner, friends are hard to find. Everyone around you is poor and struggling, government is incompetent and corrupted.
I’ve chosen your choice as well, but it has its downsides.
❤️ eight years, great job. lots of love.
Also, congratulations on 8 years, man. Incredible. I can’t even picture that. 8 years.
I guess 8 years will pass whether I like it or not, what will matter is if I chose to stay sober in that time.
Again, congratulations, DT. I do not imagine it’d have been easy to take on life without alcohol.
Ok not for nothing, but I just saw the trailer for severance. I sure hope you optioned that story to them, cuz it looks damn close to the story about dude going to work and taking a drug to forget everything etc.
Yeah, the main actor even has a similar facial shape. But, careful now. You might be dockzing [sp?] him. He probably did sell his story and is part of the writing team. Or maybe he is Ben Stiller. Tacos said in a previous post he has “insane” money now. Probably not from Vanguard ETFs since the market has declined. It all adds up. Hey Tacos, now that you have those Applebux flowing in, can you spare a shekel?
They even hired a main actor with face and hair similar to DT lmao
there’s no info on this “Dan Erickson” person and his imdb shows nuffin before magically creating Severance. hella sus fr fr no cap…
e-girls are horny by default thats what makes em e-girls. highsneed internet made it possible for all of us to get instant access to *digital* manic pixie dream cunts. they dangle their pussy offers in front of you because they heard you are now rich and successful. being a creative with an actual fan base and published works is just the goldleaf cherry on top. they can sense security the way amber heard was able to sniff out elon musk and put herself in his inner circle. back in your early 20s-30s these types were almost non-existent. the only online egirl was sasha grey. back when there was no such thing as easy, direct one-on-one webcam chats. the only MPDG was natalie portman in CLOSER (2004). now they’re everywhere and somehow nowhere at once. accessible but inaccessible. phantom pussy to go along with your old man ghost. DMs you to fuck but when you reply she doesn’t reply back. or she’s in Colorado. or “she” is actually middle-aged man employed by a Federal agency. anyway, just an idea: you could put out a craigslist ad for a part-time exec assistant. she can pick her own hours, work remote, yadda yadda. as long as she helps you find and buy stuff on AMAZON PRIME so that you don’t have to take depressing trips to Wal-mart and fucking Big-5. give her the number to some safe CC or prepaid card so she can put through the orders. you brag about being insanely rich but you’re still doing the most poorfaggiest of chores. wasting time and gas driving to some glendale walshart that just happens to be across the street from where your you-know-what passed away. re-living painful memories….for what? you could have a cute personal assistant who you then BANG down the line. that’s how Woodrow Tracy Harrelson met his current wife. and he’s still one ‘o the best actors of his generation.
congratulations man, i just got my 8 years as well. ive been reading your shit since i was about 6 months sober (or less) and i gotta say, you’ve still got it.
the books are superb. i mean, really fuckin good.
still active w my homegroup and shit.. dating a beautiful woman a hell ova lot younger than me and generally non-suicidal most of the time l.
it’s been cool. my sobriety date is Feb 17th 2014 so that one day more or less than you have.. i forget.
anyways, god bless
thank you for your writing
You know who else was a teetotaler? Adolf friggen H!tler, man.