Happy New Year. I'm still just a miserable monkey whose only thought is cumming inside vaginas. I made this video collection of women I met that day, drugged unconscious, and enjoyed their helpless states. Features girls with unique appeal: [Divine Lolita Slender (1●) / Pure and Lovely Girl (19) / 155cm Flat-Chested Cutie (18) / Babyfaced Busty Chick (18)]. I can't trust anything anymore. I once talked at a bar with a woman who works in advertising. "About twenty guys, I guess? (Number of people I hooked up with via dating apps in college). Ah, I don't really remember much (laugh)." "I've been made to puke, bitten. I thought I was going to die (laugh)." "When I asked him, 'You're smart, why do such things?' he just said, 'What an idiot,' and laughed while watching me suffer. He said he liked that situation." Damn. Smirking like that. I was the one who asked, but I started feeling sick. This woman entered a national university in the countryside and was attacked at home by a man she met through a dating app—trapped, with no escape, losing her virginity at 20. That incident became the start of her sexual escapades. "Ah, can I get a refill?" She casually ordered another canned chuhai. Moved to Tokyo at 24 for work. Unaware of her past, I had actually cared about her... Waking up in the middle of the night, that conversation endlessly loops between the back of my skull and my eyeballs. The usual self-interrogation begins. (When that woman was sleeping with other men, what was I doing?) Analyzing every hint from our past conversations, desperately trying to fabricate some nonexistent scenario that satisfies me, that gives me even a shred of peace—this fucking tedious process. It irritates me for no reason. In the end, it brings no reward. Ultimately, I'm either suffering PTSD, mentally unstable, or just plain sick. I feel like I've inherited a baton of negativity. Maybe I'm getting turned on as a form of self-destructive mental abuse. Once you dive in, there's no coming back. ...I feel like vomiting. The cheerful dating app TV commercials aired during lunch at the cafeteria, promoting "healthy relationships," in reality are just legal rape apps built on smooth-talking fuckboys and lonely meat dolls. People repeat the same shit, ponder the meaning of life, and still pay 4,000 yen this month just to have another shitty conversation. "Hi! I like your vibe." But... I just... I only want to see beautiful things now. Especially things that seem like they'll break any second. The old man at the local Chinese diner tenderly watching a clematis bloom open at dawn. Seeing him like that, I thought, (That's really nice) and hurried toward the station.