I have very little more to say. I just want to crawl into a hole and die, very discreetly.
I have no business dating. I hate people. I have always hated people. I hate everything about them, especially their petty little lives that they take so goddamn seriously. No one gives a shit about their fucking children. Why do I need to hear about them? No one gives a shit about their rock hard abs or their firm breasts. Nobody really gives a shit. I hate their careers. Their houses. Their obsession with exercise. Their Jesus Christ. Their optimism. Their environmentalism. Who gives a shit about their world. Only them and their bastard brood. By giving a shit about the planet I am giving a shit about their planet. Not my planet. It’s not mine. I don’t really live here. I’m just here for the ride. It’s like I crash landed here. It is an incredible miracle that I didn’t freeze to death sleeping in my car 25 years ago. That’s what should of happened. None of this shit happening now is really happening. It’s happening, but it’s not real. That is what I say to myself each morning. I am still in denial. I still cannot believe how badly my life has been botched. It’s not someone else’s life. I’m not some fictional character. This botched life is happening to me.
3 comments:
If you think you hate someone, try reading your post as me. You might be talking to yourself. No one likes a complainer so tell us something you like.
Tell us how you feel about the King Of Pop.
You want to talk about complainers? You're the complainingest fool commenting here. You don't even have an agenda like the Che assholes or the Wediko assholes, you're just complaining about individual blog entries.
The fact that you're even reading this belies the fact that you have a life. I don't know anything about the King of Cock. You should perhaps get some cock. If you had cock maybe you'd have some approximation of a life. You're probably socially inept so you will have to find your cock on something called Craig's List and pay for it. I don't know what the going rate of cock is, but I imagine it's about $100 a pop. So save your allowance or welfare checks or Walmart pittance or whatever. Save my friend. Save. Get your cock. Get a life.
Have you ever tried contributing something rather than simply taking?
Give.
Give.
Watch it all turn around. You've tried taking for as long as you've been alive. You took from your parents and now you take from the state -- didn't you mention somewhere in this blog that you are on SSI or something?
Listen -- don't start lashing out at me either. I am goddamned moved by your this sentence:
"This botched life is happening to me."
But I think there are people out there suffering worse than you are with your beer and your cheese. At least you can goddamn afford eating 6000 calories when you please.
There are other people who have it worse. A lot worse than you, Dickie.
All the "work" you say you do on this blog -- it must be some big plan to get money or get rich or get something. But the thing all that getting something has in common is that it is getting something for you! It's all about you you you to you. You don't even feel like you belong on this earth?
Try fucking helping someone ELSE.
Help someone move. Lift their furniture. Take care of a neighbor's plants. Whatever. The state pays you enough money that you can binge 6000 calories -- surely you can expend some of those calories trying to figure out how you might become useful to a single motherfuckinghumanbeing.
And you make fun of people who work at Walmart and have bad teeth? You should be ashamed of yourself.
If you are so much better than someone who shows up to work for a paycheck... well... let's see you hold down a job Mr. Special.
Let's see someone count on you.
What can you be counted on for? Seriously, who counts on you?
You can help someone. You can be useful. Make yourself useful so that someone counts on you -- one person -- water their plants -- that's all. I promise: you'll start feeling better.
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