You will never be a real home owner. You have no house, you have no job, you have no friends. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and alcohol into a hobo.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors. Something you will never have
Everyone is utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed people to sniff out the poor and unwashed with incredible efficiency. Even other homeless people look at you with disdain. Your hairline is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to rob a drunk guy, he’ll turn around and call the police,but at least jail is better than the streets for you.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll cremate you and flush your ashes down the toilet and no one will remember you when you're dead. Your ashes will mix with the human waste which is all you were in life, and all that will be poetic irony.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.