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About TheLastOutPost

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  1. Building PCs can be maddening. And it very well may be a hardware or bios issue even though it makes you feel like you did something wrong. What Ryzen did you go with? And what GPU? I built a Ryzen 1700 w/ an .m2 boot drive and it's incredible. That 16 megs of L3 cache is super nice too. Hope you got it up and running!🤓
  2. Thanks for your support guys. There's not much anyone can do except say, "Keep your chin up, sonny." But honestly, that sentiment was more applicable about 7 or 8 years ago. Now it's just a question of how much more fortitude I have left in me. And the answer is not much. 24, 36 months maybe. If I don't get cancer again. It's really pretty much over. Anti-depressants don't work. Exercising doesn't help. Dating apps leave me feeling even more undesirable than not even interfacing w/ the opposite sex w/ that potentiality factored in. Drinking about 14 drinks on the weekends used to allow me a little reprieve but that's pointless anymore, drinking alone for the thousandth time. I just want to die. -The Last Outpost
  3. So the woman I was talking to said she wanted to see my comedy video. So I sent her the link. And now she hasn't responded for half a month. Then a few days ago I matched a different smart beauty. And this one was not 100 miles away. We chatted and things seemed good. We both are into photography and film. Last night I told her I do comedy. Sent her a link last night to a video, thinking, surely someone who's writing their PhD in English Lit. and has studied film will see that my video has a clearly defined character, and that I put weeks into filming and editing this thing. Woke up this morning, expecting some sort of interaction, even if she didn't dig it, at least some mumbling acknowledgement. Instead, I pull up Tinder and literally see her portrait fade in real time since she had unmatched us. Like, really? I've been on dates, like we all have, where I rewind things and say, "Yep, that's where I lost the match, right there." But things were going okay on this one. She was laughing, I was complimenting, our interests were overlapping. This was as forceful of a, "You are a simply a grotesque man whose seed should never pollute the gene pool," as I've ever felt as a single person. I've been dreading 2019 for a while now. And that's because the last year I had sex was 2009. For the last 2 or 3 years I've been saying to myself, "Something will turn around. For sure, I won't hit 10 years. I'm not bad off!" And here I sit, waiting for all those happy people to count down the day after tomorrow as the ball drops and 2019 hits the screen and I have to confront the fact that, "Yes, _____. You are so ugly that you've been officially banned from mating." I'm a virgin again. 😖 I mean, these women post on these dating apps how they loath guys who show their abs, or pose on a boat w/ a fish they've just caught, or standing next to their stupid car. Well, I don't post any shots like that. I know how to use proper grammar. I'm witty. I don't smoke. I have a job. I even had cancer and almost died and that apparently counts for nothing. I mean, what the ****?! On New Year's Day I'm deleting my Tinder. At this point it's like one of those little league games basketball games where the school from the wealthier suburb and better SAT scores just absolutely mauls the smaller school, to the point where the parents of both teams are just chewing the inside of their lips while the losing team chugs up the court to miss another shot, and when it's all said and done the sports editor at the local paper is writing the headline about how it's the worst loss in over 4 decades in state history. And that's how I feel. Not just rejected, but dejected. I mean, what's the ****ing point? When that last relationship ended in 2009 I thought, "I'm not the kinda guy who has women show up like the bus schedule so it'll be a minute but then I'll find someone else." Then a few years ago I was like, "Man, it's been like 5 years now... 😒" And now I'm like, "I really am an ugly person." I mean, the good news about hitting the decade mark is I know now that this won't go on much longer, because I realize, w/o being too emotional about it, that I'm not going to continue to suffer like this. I will ______ myself off a tall _______ before I go through many more Valentine's Days alone. 10 is too goddamn many. 5 is too goddamn many. How many more times do I chug up the court towards the goal, shoot the ball and have it not even touch the backboard. It just flies out of bounds and the crowd winces in embarrassment for me. For trying; for donning the uniform in front of everyone with the outlandish notion that you too can put some points on the board. This was never a game I was supposed to be playing. I masturbated two times last night and still woke up with an erection this morning. 🙁 The game is over, the parents have packed the SUVs up with kids to go get pizza. The lights have been shut off one by one, with an audible "klack!" each time. From a corner of the empty gymnasium comes the echo of a lone basketball bouncing off the smooth sheen of the empty court, otherwise quiet as a graveyard with the noticeable absence of the energy of the souls it accommodates. The janitor walks in from the hallway and says, "Hey now son, gettin' dark. We closin' up." The boy looks up, eyes red from crying in shame, his palms raw from the dribbling, "I can't quit." The janitor gently takes the ball from the boy and tells him, "This game just ain't for everybody. Time to go on home naw, son..." -The Last Outpost
  4. I was talking to this woman on Tinder, and things were going pretty good at first. She gave me a super like - ego boosted! We started chatting and our interests overlapped; and these are interests that I don't ever really see. Tail wagging! I made some jokes that didn't get much response, but, seeing how we're on chat, it can be difficult. So I kept chatting, but... began to realize that my word bubbles were bigger than her word bubbles. Then she said something today that felt downright patronizing. I complimented a thing she had sewn and said in a flirting way, "I will show you something I made too, if you can handle it." A day went by and she just flatly said, "I'm intrigued." It just really hit me sour. Like, I could feel her eyes rolling as I read her response. Each response she's sent has been shorter than the previous one, and this one was down to two words, and it took her a day and a half to formulate at that. I guess in addition to having an ugly body, I've got to come to terms with the fact that I have an annoying personality to boot. Because I've always been less than desirable physically, due to my chronic health condition since age 5 which has caused bad acne, stunted growth in puberty, and persistent chubbiness, I've compensated by being funny. Guess I'm getting too old for that shit too. My jokes haven't been landing for over a year. 2019 marks the 10th year since I've had a girlfriend or a sexual partner. A decade. And she was a girlfriend of 3 years, meaning I haven't felt the rush of love in 13 ****ing years. Goddamn, I am one ugly bastard. Goddamn, I must have been Caligula in my last life! Nature has a way of filtering out the genes that shouldn't be passed along, the benefit for the species which is hard to fault. It just sucks when you're always the one who watches his friends get girls and then hears how fun the sex was afterwards, and all you ever do is orgasm by your lonesome, late at night, like some lone burglar taking a few pieces of bread to keep from starving while everyone else lives in relative opulence. The world is a dark and cold landscape, and when you suffer from depression like we do, it gets so cold that it begins to snow. And the only thing that can get you through the frozen pine is the lantern that is love. For a decade now I've been trekking through the tundra, growing weaker with each passing Valentine's Day and New Year's spent alone; while my friends, coworkers- even my own sibling- celebrate these times by further bronzing the relationship of those they know most intimately by the passage of time. Slowly the tempo of crunching ice and snow beneath my boots trails off and I lean against a tree to realize that I'm never going to find that cabin of warmth in the woods. It is too cold to cry. -The Last Outpost
  5. How much more of this can I withstand? How many more years? How many more false-starts? How many more orgasms by myself? I can't keep getting knocked down to the mat like this. They tell you to keep your chin up, but at age 38, how many more uppercuts to the jaw can I absorb? Okay, lemme rewind. So, last month I started a new job, one with some promise, since the actual work is tolerable- in contrast to most of my prior jobs. But the people who work in the office I'm in are so incredibly stuck-up I think if I had a coronary they would notice to the same degree that they notice when the printer is out of ink. This new job I got via assignment through a temp agency after relocating to my "hometown" after years away. Also, this town is home to the state's "Polytechnic" university, where if you aren't a student or a graduate of this school, they think you're some sub-human imbecile. It's one of those big state schools where the university is the raison d'etre for the whole area, and the local media will literally print stories about the school installing new dog pooper-scooper stations along walking paths on campus, as if the provost of Harvard will catch wind of it and declare, "We're closing! We just can't compete with V. Tech!" So anyway, I'm no goddamn Hokie and this place is basically an extension of the campus, so of course almost everyone in that place has their master's degree from there and they have it in their heads that they're all a bunch of Thomas Edisons giving the world a new version of the light bulb every time they take a shit. There's this chick that sits two cubes down from me who is so goddamn arrogant, and so convinced of her manifest intellect, that on 2 occasions now I've passed her in the hallway, greeted her by name only to have her look me right in my eyes and form an expression on her face that says, "Who told that animal it's allowed to speak at me?" And the whole town is like this. A common suggestion I get is, "You should pursue your interests in like a Meetup.com group or something. Or get on a dating app." Decent concept, except everyone involved in anything around here is affiliated with the university, and are unwelcoming to people like me who didn't join their flock. Women just put their degree and their graduating year in their dating profile and that's it! Now to really put the cherry on top, my first day there my manager is walking me around and introducing me to people, and she leads me into this chick's office, and as I round the corner the name tag on the door sparks a memory association that I haven't thought about in literally two decades. I went to high school with this girl and she was a total asshole then and hasn't a bit. She gave me this look like, "You are human garbage." After 20 ****ing years! It tells me she hasn't had much life experience between then and now, but she's some kind of manager due to swimming through the Tech system of internships in town. So, in addition to trying to establish myself in the office, a difficult task in most scenarios, I have this poison pill running around quietly whispering shit-talk about me behind my back. It's just endless. Shit stacked on top of shit on top of more shit. And all I want to do is work there for a while and save up some money and move several hours away from here where there's more to life than tailgating 5 times a year as the university plays a week football schedule so they can guarantee themselves a bowl game and convince themselves in the local media that they're the greatest college town since Athens, Greece. But after a few weeks it's becoming abundantly clear that I'm not welcome there. But it took two and a half months to land this gig and if this falls through I don't know what I'm gonna do. Ah well, after 20 years of heavy depression there isn't much time left anyway. I'm not tall, dark, and handsome so I have little social currency. I'm the opposite: a short, chubby, ginger. I'm socially bankrupt! I can finally admit to myself at this stage that there isn't "someone for everyone", and some people will never fit in, and society just doesn't give a ****. Gravestones are grey for a reason: because they mark yet another unremarkable body. And that's what I've been my whole life- a walking tombstone that maybe 3 or 4 people would even know about it. The rest are the busy-people in society who matter. And in a place like this college town, if you aren't a part of the beehive, you're just a walking-tombstone. -The Last Outpost
  6. Hello. I'm not sure what to say; I'm severely depressed currently, and have been for a long, long time - decades, if I had to guess. I suppose at the time that it really set in, in those last couple years of high school, I ignored it with the assumption that once I got to college, life would "begin" and happy days would reign supreme. How wrong I was, as college only added another dimension to the suckitude. Sure, I was sparked by my studies, but due to a complicated set of events, that bridge to a decent and fulfilling life was taken from me, and when I dropped out of school after being forced to change majors at the end of my 3rd year; I was left with tens of thousands of dollars in debt, no degree, and no entry-point into a promising career or company. Then The Suck really grabbed me by the throat, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, "Now what?" The rest of my adulthood have been several lonely dead-ends, a few promising detours that quickly turned into surprise cul-de-sacs, a bout with cancer, and depression so intense I feel like I'm about to drop into some abyss at any given moment. I'm 38, live at my mom's, and struggle with an ongoing auto-immune condition that has drained much of my little available income after paying bills. I can't get a girlfriend b/c I'm short, a result of my truncated growth-spurt in high school due to my health condition that I was diagnosed with at age 5. One of the things that kept me going in my 20s was a couple of long-term friends, who aided my struggle in life through laughter and good spirit (mostly); but as my 30s are now approaching their sunset, even they have receded into the shadows. Aside from my mother, I have no support structure. And more to the point, most people I meet at various jobs I've had over the past decade don't just overlook, but they actively dislike me, before I have the chance to really get to know them. Ever hear the phrase, "gingers have no souls"? I have, cuz I'm a short ginger, with acne scars to boot. I mean, you wouldn't believe the amount of contempt and resentment that gets smuggled into the collective-unconscious in the form of "jokes" at an out-group's expense until you're one of them. Alone I walk this world these days, having tried desperately to right the boat that is my stupid, cursed life for all these years. I usually like to think of the life of the loner as one of quiet dignity, like some ronin negotiating his path on his own terms ; in my case though, it increasingly feels like Fate quietly snickering at me as I turn every corner. Now, have I been some continuous victim all this time, all these years? No. I've made mistakes and miscalculations. I've returned fire when it would have been better to take the hit and carry on unhindered. I don't want to paint the picture that somehow I've been some choir boy, but I just feel like I've been unfairly burdened throughout most of my life and in ways that have been disproportionate to any transgressions I may have committed. At this point in my journey, I'm just not sure how much more of this I'm gonna stick around for. I guess I need to say some of this while there's still time. I don't even know what good coming to this forum may possibly achieve, and if anything, I guess I'm sticking a note in a bottle and casting it out to the waters' whims, not really expecting a reply....or anything, really. I guess most of us here are adrift to some degree. And maybe this message will wash up on your shore, wherever that may be, and you'll say, "I see something of myself in this." Anyway, thank you for reading. -The Last Outpost
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