Worse. On the outer edge of it. Tidewater region.
I live in the decaying suburbs. I don't know of or interact with any white people under the age of fourty five. I can watch the encroachment happen from my porch, surrounded by the faded colonial glories of my forefathers. Give it twenty years, and America's First Region will be 20% white at best.
At least if I lived in NOVA proper, I could accept it and move on. It's always easier to deal with a tombstone than it is to sit at someone's side and watch them die.
Every day is like Mike Oldfield's Nuclear for me, now. I'm standing on the edge of the crater, friend, and the ashes are all cold now. No more bullets. The embers are dead.
I am well aware of the disparity between people who try to live honestly and those who try to game the system. I'm more aware of it than most, really, given my circumstances.
If you aren't white and don't care about your dignity, honor, or pride as a citizen (and if you aren't white, you do not), you can live like a fucking king on welfare.
Our invaders eat like royalty while we struggle just to make ends meet. That's the real reason we are winning. Because, denied real jobs and careers by Baby Boomer fuckups, all the white men and women of our nation now work part time jobs with no benefits as cashiers and waitresses, living alone and surviving from ramen cup to ramen cup. And we do this while ringing up the shopping carts of greasy, bloated, morbidly overweight sheboons and mestizo mud people who spend five, six, seven hundred dollars a month on steaks and cake, and then stuff themselves and their twelve squealing children spherical with it. Who are so fattened and gorged that they leave literal grease trails wherever they waddle, their sweat spewing out oil and filth onto everything they touch.
When I worked a cash register, I saw little squatamalans not more than four years old that had been crammed so full of prime rib and root beer that you could have thrown them down an aisle and they would have rolled all the way out the door. The parents were, if anything, even worse. Your average hispanic woman wears maternity clothes 24/7, because they are the only things that fit them anymore. Sheboons are below even that: they're too stupid the realize they can't fit into something made for a woman one fifth their weight, and cram their greasy, constantly sweating bodies into lycra tops and yoga pants that are no less than eight sizes too small, and waddle around wearing outlandish weaves and wigs, which makes them sweat even worse.
I serviced, on a daily basis, mestizos and niggers who were so cartoonishly obese that even a clinic or doctor's office would need to do bloodwork to figure out of they were pregnant or not. Where the blubber ends and the fermenting sack of the next batch of gangbangers, rapists, and dindus beings is anyone's guess.
We are winning the war for the future because we, and our children, are being forced to starve and endure hopelessness, humiliation, and loneliness while we cater to the arrogant and gloating invaders who bloat themselves like gorged ticks on what is rightfully ours. Our land. Our heritage. Our people's wealth and prosperity.
The mandatory stints in the service industry have, in my opinion radicalized more young white men and women than any jokes or memetics ever could. I didn't come here and become redpilled. I was already redpilled when I got here. Holla Forums didn't give me the truth. It gave me hope.
When the revolution comes, and it will, because the housing collapse is going to put thousands of middle and lower class whites out of house and home when it hits, it may have the trappings of Fascism. But I know, deep down in my soul, that the heart of it will be less National Socialist, and more Fight Club.
And I'm okay with that.
