Upon setting up my new laptop, I immediately installed all of my WoW disks. I logged onto my
account and took a look at all of my characters that I hadn’t touched for a year and a half. Right when I
logged onto my main character, I was contacted by James, and he invited me to join an online group
with him, Steve, and Mark. They all gave me a warm welcome back.
And there I was, stuck in the void of hopelessness once again; in the exact same position as I had
been when I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen and seventeen. For all the efforts I made to improve my life
during my eighteenth year, I had nothing to show for it. No friends, no girls, no life.
I started going to James’s house a lot more, since I was now able to drive and the two of us could play
WoW together again. Seeing James was always pleasant in its own way. He was my comrade in virginity,
for he too didn’t get any attention from girls, and I’m sure he suffered from it, but not as much as I did. I
was very perplexed as to why he didn’t feel any anger towards girls for denying him sex. He should be
just as angry as I am. I supposed he didn’t have a very high sex drive, or he was just a generally weak
To be angry about the injustices one faces is a sign of strength. It is a sign that one has the will to fight
back against those injustices, rather than bowing down and accepting it as fate. Both my friends James
and Philip seem to be the weak, accepting type; whereas I am the fighter. I will never stand to be
insulted, and I will eventually have my revenge against all those who insult me, no matter how long it
For the rest of the summer, I took it easy and played WoW with James, Steve, and Mark; just like old
times. I also started reading a new book series called A Song of Ice and Fire, by George R.R. Martin. This
medieval fantasy series was spectacular. The first book of the series was A Game of Thrones, and once I
read the first chapter I just couldn’t put it down. It was like nothing I had ever read before, with a huge
array of complex characters, a few of whom I could relate to. I found out that it was going to be adapted
into an HBO television series, and I became very excited for that.
Delving into fantasy stories like WoW and Game of Thrones didn’t make me forget about all of my
troubles in life, but they did give me a temporary and relieving sense of escape, which I need from time
to time. Life would be impossible to handle without those temporary respites.
Rob Lemelson suggested to my mother that I join the karate class he practices in. Rob was an expert
black-belt, and James was also taking the same class with him. They met up every Tuesday and Friday
night, and I agreed to go on Fridays. Every Friday, I began the routine of driving up to James’s house, and
then the two of us would go in James’s car to the karate class in Santa Monica. James got his first car a
few months after I got mine, though his car was a lot older and worn out.
Rob thought that starting karate would be healthy for me, as it is meant to increase confidence and
build character. I was eager to see if I could benefit from it. The class was pleasant. It gave me a good
work out and a sense of invigoration. There were usually six or seven other students, and I was
particularly annoyed with this one twelve year old kid who seemed to think he was better than me
because he was a brown belt and I was a novice white belt. I bet he thought he could beat me in a fight
because of it… Hah! No chance in that. It was annoying, but I was amused at the same time.
After the karate class, Rob would take us out to a nice restaurant for dinner if he had time. If Rob was
busy that night, James and I would go to our usual dinner place in the palisades, and then we would go
back to his house to hang out for a while.
My new semester at Moorpark College began. I only managed to sign up for one class, but I promised
my mother that I would do at least three classes in the next semester. Both of my grandma’s offered to
send me some money to help me out with living expenses, and I wisely saved every check I received
from them. One of my priorities was to start building up my money savings in case my life became too
The class I started was a political science class. I figured I would gain some useful knowledge by taking
it, though I disliked the teacher because he had the tendency to randomly call on me to answer
questions. I was still terrified of speaking in front of the class, even if it was for one sentence. My social
anxiety has always made my life so difficult, and no one ever understood it. I hated how everyone else
seemed to have no anxiety at all. I was like a cripple compared to them. Their lives must be so much
easier. Thankfully, there were no couples in this class, but I still had to see them when I walked through
the school. The only thing I could do was keep my head down and pretend they didn’t exist. I still cried
on the drive home every day.
Grandma Jinx came to visit the United States in October, where she stayed at father’s house. This
presented a difficult situation. She of course wanted to see me, her eldest grandson, but I wasn’t on
speaking terms with my father and Soumaya. I was very resentful of my father for the way he treated
me during that last incident, and I will never forgive him for it. My father effectively abandoned me at
one of my most crucial points in my life. Though in fact, he was never really present in my life to
abandon me in the first place. When I think about it, he was always absent from my life. When my whole
world took a downward spiral into darkness after I hit puberty, he never made any effort to save me. He
just didn’t care.
I would never let what happened to me happen to a son of mine, if I had a son… though from the way
things have been going, I’ll never have a chance to have a son, because girls don’t want to have sex me. I
would make such a better father than my own father.
Grandma Jinx pushed the both of us to reconcile. She insisted that I meet her and father at father’s
house, where the three of us would set out to have lunch somewhere. I showed up and gave my
grandma a hug. Father didn’t say a word to me, nor I to him.
We went to our local Japanese restaurant. Father sat in silence while Grandma Jinx asked me lots of
questions about my life. Eventually we got around to the subject that was hanging in the air. If it weren’t
for my grandma, the conversation would have gotten nowhere. Father and I went back and forth at each
other with accusations. Grandma Jinx persuaded the two of us to drop our grudges and move on. For
her sake, we acquiesced. I shook hands with father as we agreed to put the past behind us.
I went on a walk with Grandma Jinx after we returned to father’s house. I took her up to my old
contemplation spot, the hilltop that overlooks father’s neighborhood, which I always called the
Overlook. That place is one of the most special places in my life. I have memories of it stretching back all
the way to when I was a joyful ten-year-old. I remember going up there to skateboard all the way down;
I rode my bicycle up there during my middle school years; I hiked up there with Max when he was
staying at father’s house as an exchange student; I languished there in despair when I went on my lonely
walks at the age of seventeen and eighteen; and now I was showing it to my grandma. When the two of
us reached the top, every memory came back to me, and I felt a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
After the walk, I didn’t want to enter father’s house. Soumaya was in there, and I hadn’t seen her
since that dreadful day when she made father throw me out. Once again, my grandma forced the issue,
and I agreed to go in for a talk. We all sat down at the kitchen table and agreed that arguing would get
us nowhere. Father and Soumaya were willing to start over, and I agreed to give our relationship
another chance. Before my grandma departed back to England, she made us promise to keep up the
positive relations, and made sure that they would invite me over for dinner frequently.
I soon went to one of those dinners at father’s house. It was an awkward experience, to have dinner
with the two of them after all of that tension. We didn’t raise any issues and talked about pleasant
things. It was nice to see my brother Jazz again. I was shocked by how much he had grown in the past
several months. He was no longer a baby, but a five-year-old boy who was turning six soon. I could
actually have full conversations with him. He was a very social boy, and quite boisterous… and that
started to worry me. He could well turn into one of the people I have despised and envied so much. I felt
a hint of jealousy that my five-year-old brother was so well versed in social skills at such a young age. I
always suffered from shyness and social anxiety, but Jazz didn’t seem to have that problem.
I put that worry at the back of my mind. He was my brother, and he really looked up to me. He was
one of the few people who treated me the way I want to be treated, with respect and adoration. I
enjoyed spending time with the boy.
As I got more used to having a car of my own to drive, I frequently went on what I called “night
drives” around my mother’s neighborhood. They almost replaced the long walks I used to take in the
afternoons. Staying in my room all the time only increased my depression. It was suffocating. To ease
this suffocation, I frequently got in my car at night, turned on the radio, and went on a drive with no
particular destination. The song “Two Is Better Than One” always played on the radio when I went on
those night drives. It made me feel sad, though it was soothing at the same time. That song will always
remind me of the loneliness I felt during those experiences.
I soon learned the hard way to not go on night drives on Fridays and Saturdays. That was when
teenagers were out and about. Even in the peaceful residential neighborhood that my mother lived in, I
frequently saw bands of teenagers roaming the streets. They were high schoolers, younger than me;
mostly skateboarder punks or football jocks who had pretty girls beside them. The sight of them
enraged me to no end. It reminded me of the life I missed out on. They were probably on their way to
some house party, where they will get drunk and have sex and do all sorts of fun pleasurable things that
I’ve never had the chance to do. Damn them all!
My Autumn semester at Moorpark College flashed by like a subtle lightning bolt. It was as if it didn’t
even exist in my life. Moorpark College was supposed to be a place of hope for me, but it turned into a
place of despair, just like everything else. I was invisible there. Nobody knew I existed or cared who I
was. At least this time I finished a class.
The day of my final exam was December 7
, which was also the day the new expansion to World of
Warcraft was released, called Cataclysm. I completed my final exam with ease, and thus I completed my
first college class, in which I received the grade of a B. Afterwards, I rushed to Best Buy to purchase the
new game. With new WoW expansions, some of those old feelings that I felt when I first played the
game came back to me, and I wanted that feeling again. It was comforting, and the sense comfort was
something I needed to cushion myself with. I also knew that I would beat James, Steve, and Mark to the
next high level cap. I supposed it would provide a small sense of competitive satisfaction. Getting a
character to the highest level the fastest was the only part of the game that I was truly good at, but I
suppose that was due to the massive amounts of free time I had at my disposal. Since my college class
was over and it was winter break, I could literally play the game for every waking minute.
And so I did. My last stint in the World of Warcraft was an intense one. I reached the new level cap in
less than two days, and once I was there I repeatedly took pleasure in killing James’s, Steve’s, and
Mark’s characters as they tried to level up, as a petty form of revenge for them leaving me out of their
group meetings years ago, and because I was jealous that Steve and Mark were more skilled at the game
than I was. Being a higher level for those few days gave me the advantage I needed to even the score.
But I digress.
After two weeks of playing World of Warcraft nonstop, I once again came to the abrupt decision to
quit. The new expansion was a major disappointment. Blizzard Entertainment, the creators of the game,
made changes that I believe ruined everything that was fun about it. I won’t get into the details, as most
of the people reading this won’t understand complicated video game terms anyway.
But that was only a small part of the reason why I quit. The main reason was the disturbing new
player-base. The game got bigger with every new expansion that was released, and as it got bigger, it
brought in a vast amount of new players. I noticed that more and more “normal” people who had active
and pleasurable social lives were starting to play the game, as the new changes catered to such a crowd.
WoW no longer became a sanctuary where I could hide from the evils of the world, because the evils of
the world had now followed me there. I saw people bragging online about their sexual experiences with
girls… and they used the term “virgin” as an insult to people who were more immersed in the game than
them. The insult stung, because it was true. Us virgins did tend to get more immersed in such things,
because our real lives were lacking. I couldn’t stand to play WoW knowing that my enemies, the people I
hate and envy so much for having sexual lives, were now playing the same game as me. There was no
point anymore. I realized what a terrible mistake I made to turn my back on the world again. The world
is brutal, and I need to fight for my place in it. My life was at a crucial turning point, and I couldn’t waste
any more precious time.
At the Lemelson’s Christmas party, I told James that I was quitting WoW again, and he told me he
suspected I would very soon. It was just a matter of time. Even through playing with me over the
internet, he could detect my anger and rage towards the world seeping through the computer screen. I
questioned him about why he himself could go on living without feeling any sort of anger or resentment
about his circumstances, which were similar to mine. He was, after all, a nineteen year old virgin just like
I was. He just casually told me that didn’t pay attention to it, and focused on his strengths. What
strengths do I have to focus on? I wondered. The world views me as a weakling. Perhaps I needed to
prove the world wrong.
On Christmas Day, father held a huge Christmas party at his house. I was invited, since I was back on
speaking terms with them. I got a few new shirts for Christmas, so I decided to wear one for the
occasion. I hadn’t seen any of father’s friends for a while, and it was nice to reunite with them. The
Bubenheim’s weren’t there; father had recently got into a fight with Alex, abruptly ending their
friendship. I suppose it was for the best. If Leo was at that party, I would have probably gotten into a
nasty fight with him. My hatred of Leo was so volatile that I wanted to confront him. I wanted to hurt
him. I couldn’t let him get away with the insults he dealt towards me in the past.
A few family friends complimented my appearance, and that made me feel a bit better about myself.
It is so peculiar how a simple smile or a compliment can completely change how I feel about the world
for a few moments.
During the remaining days of 2010, I joined my mother and sister at Jack’s beach house in Malibu to
spend a few nights. They arrived there a few hours before me, and by the time I reached the house they
had already invited a few guests for an afternoon get-together. To my outrage, I saw that mother had
invited Maddy and her boyfriend. I was looking forward to having another respite at the beautiful
Malibu mansion where I can indulge myself in opulence and forget about my depressing loneliness.
Having a young couple lurking around only reminded me of my insignificance. I was extremely upset
with my mother for inviting them. She should have been more considerate.
If only I had a girlfriend of my own to take to that place. That beach house is the perfect place to take
a girlfriend to. It had a swimming pool and a Jacuzzi, it was located on a private beach where we could
walk arm in arm, and it even had a private movie theatre. Such an opportunity wasted, all because no
girl would give me a chance. Instead, I was all alone, and I had to see another couple watch movies
together in that very theatre.
Thankfully, that couple only stayed for a few hours. Mother invited a few more guests, and we
ordered our dinner to be delivered from a local restaurant. By the time dinner arrived, I had already
consumed three glasses of wine, and I had a fourth glass with the meal. Everything’s better with some
wine in the belly, as a famous character from Game of Thrones would say. I was left out of most of the
conversations, like I always was, so I just sat there quietly, sipping my wine as I had to bear listening to
Maddy talk about how awesome her life was.
I excused myself as soon as I finished eating, and boy did I stuff myself on that meal. I then walked
outside onto the beach. The wine had long since gone to my head, making me feel a sense of dizzy
invigoration. I started walking along the shore, taking in the magnificence of the gentle, moonlit ocean.
It was so… romantic. I kept walking and walking with no destination in mind. The romance of it all filled
me with despair and longing. I wanted a girlfriend to experience that moment with me, but no girl
wanted to be my girlfriend. The only thing I could do was imagine how heavenly it would be to have a
beautiful girl by my side. It is such a shameful tragedy.
I ended up walking for two hours, and at the end of it I was crying to myself because I felt so sad.
When I returned to the house, Maddy and her boyfriend had left, and so did most of the guests. The
only guests who remained were my mother’s friends Alan and Rebecca, and their sons, as they were
spending the nights there with us.
I spent the rest of my time there relaxing and watching movies in the theatre. We watched the entire
Jurassic Park trilogy, which brought back fond memories of my childhood. I went on a few more walks
on the beach during the daytime. That beach was always quiet and peaceful, since the only people who
visited it were those who lived in homes on the beach. I took full advantage of this. I’ve always found
beaches to be truly beautiful, but I could never go to public beaches because they are full of young
couples walking around in their revealing bathing suits, the sight of which fills me with envious rage. On
the private beach, I could enjoy the serenity of the environment without having to worry about young
couples making me jealous. There were no young couples, only a few families and old couples here and
there. I did, however, pass by one young girl, and she was like a goddess who came down from heaven.
She was walking alone, in her bathing suit, with her luscious blonde hair blowing in the wind. I couldn’t
help but slyly admire her beauty as we passed by each other. I was scared. I was scared that she might
view me as nothing but an inferior insect who’s presence ruins her atmosphere. Her beauty was
intoxicating! And then, just as we passed each other, she actually looked at me. She looked at me and
smiled. Most girls never even deigned to look at me, and this one actually looked at me and smiled. I had
never felt so euphoric in my life. One smile. One smile was all it took to brighten my entire day. The
power that beautiful women have is unbelievable. They can temporarily turn a desperate boy’s whole
world around just by smiling.
That smile put me in a good, healthy mood for the rest of that walk, but it soon faded away as I
realized that I could never actually have a girl as beautiful as that. She probably only smiled out of
politeness. She would never go for me. And what is the point to life if I can’t have a girl of such beauty?
Some men get to have beautiful girlfriends like that, and some don’t. I am among those who are denied
such a pleasure, and that is why I hate life.
After spending three days at the Malibu beach house, I was sad to leave it. I had a feeling I would
never see the place again, and it was true. That was the last time I ever went there. Mother ended her
relationship with Jack sometime within the following months, though she would never tell me directly
I spent New Year’s Eve alone and miserable, just like the previous year. And the year before that, for
that matter. It was the last day my WoW account was active, and I logged onto WoW just for that
occasion. I angrily had arguments with random people online who I saw bragging about their girlfriends.
I spewed out all of my hatred towards them, but they were only amused. It was a very aggravating
experience, and it made me glad that I cancelled my WoW account. There was nowhere I could hide
anymore. Time was ticking, and a New Year was just beginning. I concluded that I had to put more effort
into making better use of my time.
I made a vow on New Year’s Day that I wouldn’t masturbate until I did something to successfully get
one step further in life. Having a high sex drive, I usually masturbated at least every other day. I always
fantasized about sex… and the fact that I was unable to have sex made me even more obsessed with it.
To stop masturbating for more than three days was a big deal. I lasted seven days. On the seventh day
my sexual urges became too overwhelming. My whole body was enveloped in it. I thought about girls
every single second, and not having a girl to have sex with was unbearable. I could not even function
anymore, so I had to break my commitment. The masturbation session I had after that seven-day dry
spell was astounding. I did my usual fantasizing about having sex with a beautiful, tall blonde-haired girl;
but this time I intensified it a lot, and made up a whole story in my mind just to make the experience
seem more real. If only it could be real. Some men get to live that fantasy, whereas I could only dream
of it. Life is not fair.
I finished the fourth book of the Song of Ice and Fire series. The television adaptation, Game of
Thrones was coming out in just a few months, and I was really looking forward to that. I was also looking
forward to the fifth book of the series, which had a release date of July 12
. After finishing all four
books, I had become a huge fan of the series. It depicted a much more exciting world than the one I
lived in, with a large array of complex characters, a few of whom I could really relate to.
As I was reading up about the release date for the fifth book, I found an online countdown that
showed each day, hour, minute, and second that remained until July 12
. Since July 12
was so close to
birthday, I used this countdown as the official countdown of my last days as a teenager. I made
it my internet homepage, and hoped that it would motivate me to do everything I can to change my life
during this crucial period.
Since I was back in father’s good graces, my mother agreed to meet with him and me to talk about
my life situation. We had dinner at a Japanese restaurant, where we had a long talk about what I was
doing in my life, and what my college plans were. My mother and father both agreed that in order to
change my life, I needed to remove myself from my current environment and start anew. Living at my
mother’s apartment was becoming unhealthy, and they thought that things would improve if I had my
own place. It was at this moment that we began to form the Santa Barbara plan, in which I would go to
college in Santa Barbara and live amongst the students there.
The Santa Barbara plan was formed on that night, but its roots stretch all the way back to when I just
turned eighteen. It was all because I watched that movie Alpha Dog. The movie had a profound effect on
me, because it depicted lots of good looking young people enjoying pleasurable sex lives. I thought
about it for many months afterward, and I constantly read about the story online. I found out that it
took place in Santa Barbara, which prompted me to read about college life in Santa Barbara. I found out
about Isla Vista, the small town adjacent to UCSB where all of the college students live and have parties.
When I found out about all this, I had the desperate hope that if I moved to that town I would be able to
live that life too. That was the life I wanted. A life of pleasure and sex. I talked to my mother about the
prospect of going to college in Santa Barbara a few times during my eighteenth year. She thought it was
a good idea; it would certainly free her of the burden of living with me, but we never seriously
considered it. Until that day.
My mother proposed the plan to father, and father became very enthusiastic about it. We laid down
the groundwork right then and there. Father was still suffering from his financial crisis, but he agreed to
pay for my tuition and contribute five hundred dollars a month towards my living expenses, while my
mother would pay for my apartment rent and continue to provide me with the car. I was to do one more
semester at Moorpark for the time being, and then transfer to Santa Barbara City College in the
This was a very astonishing turn of events. I didn’t expect this, and I had no idea how to react. I was
completely dumbfounded. I thought it was just going to be a casual dinner meeting where we would
simply talk about my life, and we ended up making plans to drastically change my life.
At that period of my life, I was on the verge of giving up all hope that I would ever live the life I want,
but this changed everything. I now had the opportunity to start fresh, in a beautiful new town, at a new
college, with my own living place. Of course, I would have to share an apartment with other college
students, but that was part of the experience. It would give me more social credibility than living with
my mother, that’s for sure. Deep down, I always wanted an opportunity like this; and now I had one, just
at the time when I was about to give up on everything completely. It was very overwhelming, and I
needed a few days to meditate and take it all in.
It was such an unbelievable turn of events that I dismissed it from my mind in the following two
months. It was still five months before I would start college in Santa Barbara, so I decided not to worry
about it for the time being. At the present, I had to worry about my new semester at Moorpark that was
I was registered to take three classes for the Spring semester at Moorpark. The first was an early
morning history class, followed by sociology and then psychology. They were all just as disastrous as I
expected them to be. I had to drop the sociology class right on the first day, because there was this
extremely hot blonde girl who took the class with her brute of a boyfriend. I couldn’t stand looking at
them sitting together. I left the class mid-session because I couldn’t take it anymore.
Dropping my sociology class left me with a huge gap of time in between my history and psychology
classes. During this time I usually went to a quiet, secluded spot that had a few tables overlooking the
view of the mountains. I spent a lot of time here, writing in my diary and contemplating my place in the
My two remaining classes were not much better. In my history class, I had a crush on a really pretty
girl, only to find out that she had a boyfriend, and in my psychology class there was this group of popular
kids who acted obnoxious the whole time. One of them was a very pretty blonde girl, and she actually
enjoyed associating with the obnoxious boys in her clique. The injustice! I hated them all. Everyone
treated me like I was invisible. No one reached out to me, no one knew I existed. I was a ghost. It was
agony, but I couldn’t drop all of my classes… I already felt guilty about dropping one of them, and I was
afraid that my parents would somehow find out. I skipped class a lot, only going in for important
lectures and tests, and spent a lot of time at my usual secluded area at the college.
As I spent a lot of time contemplating, I realized that my life was repeating itself in a vicious circle of
torment and injustice. Each new semester of college yielded the same lonely celibate life, devoid of girls
or any social interaction. It was as if there was a curse of misfortune placed upon me. I wondered what
the point was in attempting to start a new life in Santa Barbara. Hadn’t I done the same at Moorpark? I
thought, with a shiver of dread running up my spine, about how horrible it would be if the same thing
ends up happening after I make the big move to Santa Barbara. I didn’t even want to imagine how much
of an epic defeat that would be. I wisely shut away all thoughts about it, and focused with intense
determination on how I can change my life right at the current moment.
My father gave me a book called The Secret after I had dinner at his house in February. He said it will
help me develop a positive attitude. The book explained the fundamentals of a concept known as the
Law of Attraction. I had never heard or read anything quite like this before, and I was intrigued. The
theory stated that one’s thoughts were connected to a universal force that can shape the future of
reality. Being one who always loved fantasy and magic, and who always wished that such things were
real, I was swept up in a temporary wave of enthusiasm over this book. The prospect that I could change
my future just by visualizing in my mind the life I wanted filled me with a surge of hope that my life
could turn out happy. The idea was ridiculous, of course, but the world is such a ridiculous place already
that I figured I might as well give it a try. In addition, I was so desperate for something to live for that I
wanted to believe in the Law of Attraction, even if it was proven to me that it wasn’t real.
Once I finished reading it, I drove all the way to Point Dume in Malibu and climbed out to the cliffs at
the very edge. It was a windy day, and I could see the ocean roiling below me. As night fell, I looked out
to the stars and proclaimed to the universe everything I wanted in life. I proclaimed how I wanted to be
a millionaire, so I could live a luxurious life and finally be able to attract the beautiful girls I covet so
much. I wished to make up for the years of youth that I wasted in bleak loneliness, and by doing so I
would get revenge on everyone who thought they were better than me, just by becoming better than
them through the accumulation of wealth. I believed that the only way for me to attain this wealth at
the time was to win the Lottery, and that is what I visualized doing.
I then descended the clifftop on Point Dume and walked along the Malibu ocean, just like I did a
couple of months previously at the beach house. I saw a couple walking along the shore ahead of me;
the man looked to be in his late 20’s or early 30’s, and the girl he was walking with looked like a
supermodel. I assumed he was very rich and owned a nice house in Malibu. The two of them were
walking hand in hand, and I saw him subtly place his hand on her ass every now and then. He was living
the life. He was in heaven. I was envious, but since the man was older than me, it also gave me a twinge
of hope, especially after my proclamation to the universe at the clifftop. If I become a multi-millionaire, I
would be able to walk on the beach with a beautiful girlfriend too, and my life would be complete. That
was what I wanted. That was what I wished for in my future. As I’ve always believed, I am destined for
great things. Becoming a multi-millionaire at a young age is what I am meant for.
My faith was soon broken, as I bought a few Megamillions Lottery tickets and visualized myself being
the winner. I usually visualized it by meditating on the rooftop of my mother’s apartment right at the
time of the drawing. A part of me knew it was impossible to will the universe to make me the winner
just by wishing for it on a rooftop, but I was so desperate that I wanted to believe I could. I wanted to
believe I had the POWER to do it. After failing to win when the jackpot reset because someone else won,
I lost all faith in that book, and I almost ripped it apart in frustration.
I desperately pondered if there was some other way I could make millions of dollars at my age, but I
came up with nothing. I realized that my miserable, lonely virgin life was going to continue, and my only
hope was to give Santa Barbara a try.
I was still attending Karate class with James and Rob Lemelson every week. Most of the time, Rob
couldn’t make it because he was busy with something, so it was mostly just James and I going together.
It was a pleasant Friday night tradition that had lasted for the last several months, and I enjoyed the
chance it gave to hang out with James and have some form of social interaction. But lately, things were
starting to get tense.
I was constantly annoyed at how I wasn’t getting better at my karate moves in the class, and that one
little kid still treated me with disrespect because I was still a white belt, and he was a brown belt. I was
also frustrated at how James was so much physically stronger than I was, and how he was so much more
skilled at karate than me. During sparring sessions, the deep anger inside me that had accumulated over
a life of pain and injustice would sometimes come out, and I used my anger to give me an advantage
when I sparred with James and the other students. The karate teachers didn’t like this, and I was
criticized. I found the anger to be quite euphoric when I used it to fight, and I enjoyed it in a bittersweet
After our karate session, when me and James went to a restaurant in the Palisades to have dinner, I
sometimes got very angry when I saw a group of teenagers, or a teenage couple. I constantly talked to
James with vehement rage about my envy and anger at such people. I told him about how I wished I
could make them all suffer. We had a lot of conversations about what we would do if we had all the
power in the world, and I told him about all of the torturous acts of revenge I would carry out against all
those who have insulted me or lived a better life than me. I thought that James would relate to me,
since he was also a virgin who had no girls in his life, but some of the things I said began to disturb him.
One night, he told me, with a lot of distress, that enough was enough. He didn’t want to hear it
anymore. That was also the night that I decided to quit the karate class.
I didn’t speak to James until the two of us attended Rob Lemelson’s birthday party in late Spring. It
was celebrated at a very upper class restaurant in Los Angeles, and the Lemelson family rented a private
room with seven tables for the occasion. The food was absolutely delicious, and the wine was exquisite.
Each bottle was from 1985, and probably worth over a thousand dollars each.
I was seated next to James at the “young person’s table”, and at that table I ran into none other than
Julian Ritz-Barr! I hadn’t seen him since we were hanging out together with Charlie, John Jo, and Elijah…
That was seven years ago. The oaf didn’t even remember who I was. I found out that his father was good
friends with Rob. When I mentioned him earlier in the story, I talked about how much I would envy him,
and this was the night when that happened. There were a few girls at our table, daughters of Rob’s
friends. One of them was pretty, I believe she was the daughter of Pietro Scalia, a renowned film editor;
she had very sexy eyes, and she was tall… I always had a thing for tall girls, and this one was almost taller
than me. I had to suffer watching Julian sweet-talk all of the girls. He acted so confidently, and the way
the pretty girl looked at him with those sexy eyes of hers… that was a look that no girl ever gave to me. I
could tell that she was attracted to him.
I became more enraged with each second I had to suffer through this. The girls treated me like I was
invisible, but they all paid attention to Julian. What made it even worse was that Julian was a year
younger than me, and he acted like an obnoxious prick, but the girls liked it! The more enraged I
became, the more wine I drank. James was probably worried about how angry I was getting, and he
tried to strike up random conversations with me to distract me from Julian. It was very hard to help
myself from getting up and dumping my wine all over Julian’s stupid head. Perhaps I would have… if the
birthday cake wasn’t presented so early. Everyone stood up to sing happy birthday to Rob, and then the
meal was over. Some of the guests left, and James and I switched to a different table. By the time the
party was over, I had consumed eight glasses of that 1985 wine. I was underage, but no one seemed to
notice me drinking. I was literally stumbling out of the restaurant.
I saw James again a couple of weeks later, and that would be the last time I see him for quite a while.
It was at another dinner party of Rob’s that he held at his house in the Palisades, though for no special
occasion. This time, another person who was a target of my extreme jealousy was there; his name was
Roy, an Indonesian boy who was the son of Rob’s housemaid. He was four years younger than me and
James, and he took pleasure in bragging to us about his success with girls. He kept showing us pictures
of his supposed texting conversations with girls. James didn’t seem to mind it, to my outraged surprise.
I, on the other hand, could barely tolerate the insolent little worm.
At the party, James and I frequently went outside to have conversations about our fantasies. I wisely
refrained from getting too extreme in what I said, but we came up with some interesting scenarios. For
instance, we talked about what we would do if we discovered that we had certain magical powers, and
it would escalate to us coming up with our own stories of the glory we would attain in such a situation. I
talked about how I would use my powers to rule the world and set everything right, and James had
similar ideas as well. We seemed to be getting along quite well, but after that night James would refuse
to contact me for a couple of months.
The first episode of my favorite television series of all time, Game of Thrones, was released in April. I
watched it with profound excitement. Being a fan of the books, this was a very anticipated event for me.
Seeing all of the characters that I knew so well on the television screen was spectacular. The show
exceeded all of my expectations. Each week I looked forward to the next episode, and each episode
gave me a small hint of joy in my otherwise bleak life.
Towards the end of my Spring semester at Moorpark, I was so frustrated with my lonely status at the
college that I refused to even drive up there in the last few weeks. I left my home in the mornings,
pretending to my mother that I was going to college, but instead I went to Barnes & Noble and sat there
until my mother left for work, and then I would go back home. I made sure to stay at Barnes & Noble for
at least two hours, just in case my mother left later than usual. I have always ever been meticulously
careful at everything I’ve done.
On the last day, I went to my classes, quickly took my final exams, and left. When my classes lined up
for the final exams, everyone had a group to socialize with while I stood on the side, alone. Everyone
must have thought I was a complete loser. Thank goodness it was the last day. The people in those
classes angered me to no end. That was the last time I would ever see that college. On the drive home, I
cried to myself as I listened to music on the radio, as I always did. I failed to get the life I wanted at
I had nothing going for me in my life, except for the prospect of starting a new life in Santa Barbara.
That was my only hope, and it seemed very bleak. From the way things went at Moorpark, I feared the
worst for how things might turn out in Santa Barbara, but I had to give it a try. I was desperate to have
the life I know I deserve; a life of being wanted by attractive girls, a life of sex and love. Other men are
able to have such a life… so why not me? I deserve it! I am magnificent, no matter how much the world
treated me otherwise. I am destined for great things.
At the end of Spring I had to commence with my summoning to jury service. I received the summons
in the mail a few months prior, but I postponed it until May because I was too anguished to deal with
such trivial matters at the time. The Courthouse was all the way in Santa Monica. As I sat in the waiting
room before my interview with the judge, I saw a very pretty girl who looked about the same age as I
was. She had a face that melted my heart. What I would give to hold her in my arms and kiss that pretty
face of hers… I wanted to talk to her, but I just couldn’t. I felt too insecure. I was afraid she would think
of me as a creep, as all other girls did. To my fury, another guy came in and struck up a conversation
with her. They started talking comfortably, and he even made her laugh! I had to watch it all, and it
broke my heart.
I wanted to get out of there as soon as I could. I hoped that I could make an excuse to avoid having to
do jury service. When I was called in for the interview, I requested to be excused due to the fact that I
was moving to Santa Barbara soon. To my relief, the judge told me I can go and wished me good luck. As
I drove out of the Courthouse parking lot, I saw the same pretty girl. She must have been excused as
well. Again, I wished I could have said something to her. She would have made the perfect girlfriend for
me, but she was probably already attracted to that other guy who sweet-talked her in the waiting room.
Damn him! I felt so sad on the drive home. When I passed by the Palisades, I stopped by at a park that I
used to play at with James when the two of us were little. I walked around for a bit and took a ride on
the swing, reminiscing about happier times.
At the very end of May, my mother gave me an unpleasant surprise by telling me that I had to move
to Santa Barbara on June 4
, which was just in a few days. I wasn’t prepared to move so soon. I thought
I would go there towards the end of June, right before I start my summer class. I wanted more time to
emotionally and mentally prepare for such a huge undertaking. And it was a huge undertaking. For the
first time in my life, I was moving out of my parent’s house; and on top of that, I had to move into an
apartment with other college students. I had no idea what to expect, and of course I was very nervous.
My mother and I found two apartment complexes in Isla Vista that I could potentially move into. I
went with my mother and father on a day trip to Santa Barbara to take a look at them. We first had
lunch at a restaurant on Cliff Drive, and while there I admired how beautiful Santa Barbara truly was. I
found it to be like a mixture of Malibu and Santa Monica, depending on what part of it I was in.
I was astounded when we toured through Isla Vista. It was a whole town of college students living
together, right next to UCSB, and right next to the beach. I had never seen anything like it in my life.
When I read about it online I thought it was too good to be true, but there it was. It was exactly as I
expected it to be. There were hot blonde girls walking around everywhere.
I always theorized that one of the main hindrances to me living the life I desire was my situation of
living in my mother’s apartment. I thought to myself, as we explored more of this college town, that if I
lived there, then there was no way I would have trouble getting a social life and losing my virginity. It
was the perfect environment to do so. If I can’t get laid there, then there is no hope for me at all.
The first apartment building we looked at was pleasant, but they only had shared rooms, and I
wanted my own room. The second apartment building was called Capri Apartments, and they had a
setup of many two-bedroom apartments shared between three college students, in which one occupies
the single room and the other two occupy the shared room. The single rooms cost more, of course, but
it wasn’t much. My parents and I sat down at a café to talk about it. We agreed that Capri Apartments
was the best choice. My mother went back to their office to arrange a lease deal. Capri was a very
popular apartment complex, so it was hard to get a spot there so late in the year. They didn’t have any
Autumn semester apartment units ready until July, so it was arranged that I would stay in a temporary
apartment unit for the first month, and then move to a permanent one in July once it was ready. The
lease was signed and the deal was set. I was going to move to Santa Barbara on June 4
My mother was very adamant that I move on that particular date. She said it was because she wanted
me to go there and settle in before college started, but I knew the real reason. She always wanted me
out of her house because she hated having to deal with me. The Santa Barbara plan would free her of
me, and she wanted that so badly that she was willing to pay $900 a month for my apartment room
rent. Basically, she was paying money to get rid of me. I realized that once I moved out, there was no
going back. It will set a precedent, and the threshold will be crossed. My mother will never welcome me
back to live with her permanently ever again.
In the remaining days I had at my mother’s apartment, I spent a lot of time meditating about how I
would deal with this huge change. I had to prepare myself as much as possible, so I did a lot of
introspecting and evaluated myself in great detail. This move to Santa Barbara was the only chance I had
of attaining the life I desire. I had to do my best to make this work, proclaiming to myself that this time, I
will not fail. I exercised in the gym for many hours to boost my confidence as much as possible, and I
went to the mall to shop for clothes. Last Christmas I got a few gift cards for Macy’s, and I spent them all
on a few shirts that I thought I would look good in, as well as new shoes. After doing everything I could
do to physically boost my confidence and appearance, I was ready.
And so ends another era of my extraordinary and tragic life. I call it the era of Hope and
Hopelessness, where I drifted and languished in lonely despair while I lived at my mother’s apartment
and attended two colleges. At various intervals, something happened to give me a new hope for my life,
only to have it shattered later on. My life had been moving in that same pattern for a long time now,
and I was sick and tired of it. All while I was suffering this lonely existence, other boys my age lived their
happy lives of pleasure and sex. I can never forgive such an injustice, and it was my bid to
overcompensate for it in the future. I had to make up for all the years I lost in loneliness and isolation,
through no fault of my own! It was society’s fault for rejecting me. It was women’s fault for refusing to
have sex with me.
The move to Santa Barbara is the endgame, the ultimate climax of everything. I saw it as a new
chance that was given to me to finally have the things I want in life: love, sex, friends, fun, acceptance, a
sense of belonging. But I could never forgive the world for denying me such things in the past. I was
already turning twenty soon. I had already lost many years of my life. I deserve better than that. I am an
intelligent gentleman, and I deserve the love of girls more than the other obnoxious boys of my age, and
yet they get girls and I don’t. That is a crime that can never be forgotten, nor can it be forgiven. I always
wanted to exact my revenge on humanity for forcing me to live such a life, but I’ve also always had the
hope that if I can do things in life to make up for all my suffering, then that in itself would be a form of
In truth, the move Santa Barbara was actually a chance that I was giving to the world, not the other
way around! I was giving the world one last chance to give me the life that I know I’m entitled to, the life
that other boys are able to live with ease. If I still have to suffer the same rejection and injustice even
after I move to Santa Barbara, then that will be the last straw. I will have my vengeance.