A man doesn't know true hell until he is in perpetual fear of his neighbours.

The weakest of the weak

 I found out the meaning of fear thy neighbour as I spent each and every sad day in the public housing complex that I used to live in. 

Being a weak pathetic cunt, with no dignity, integrity, or credibility is the hardest thing a human being can be, as I found out in Burrowes street. 

It's also fucking challenging facing terrorism from drug addicted, alcoholic, bogan neighbours, when I was humiliated because i loved engaging in hard masturbation, in my room of my one bedroom, public housing unit, that my government handout paid for. And the neighbours heard it all, but I enjoyed it so much that I never cared, until I blew a load five times a week or so, in my one bedroom room, on the armchair, that was right by the bedroom window, where all the 10 neighbours could hear. 

The sound of waking up to a tinny stereo, blasting rap music at 10am was the kind of torture that I struggled to endure, day, after day.

The endless succumbing, because of weakness, was too much, and I started reacting, verbally. They didn't like that. Things started to get fucking ugly once I started doing that 

After about three years of daily bullying, and torment from the neighbours, one day, as next door, and his mates shot up ice, and grunted like fucking pigs as they did it, with their stereo on, drowning out my verbal threats about getting a knife and doing things to them, I attempted probably the weakest, most pathetic attempt at suicide in the history of mankind. I took an overdose of a Webster pack full of antipsychotics, blood pressure tablets and a few handfuls of febrafol. 

I really came out looking like a fucking bitch, as I called the ambulance to come and save me

After I passed out, the police and paramedics came into my flat, because they assumed I accidentally took too many pills, trying to get high, or maybe it was because I'm a dangerous mental health patient.

The putrid stigma I faced at the hospital, from the nurses and staff, made me feel like a dirty animal as I spent the entire first day, in their bed, not allowed to leave, stinking of my own vomit, not allowed to have a fucking shower, as they regarded me as the piece of fucking shit, that they know I am.

They gave me a bed with a lovely view of the psyche ward, that I could stare at all day long, in their hospital bed, as I lay there in my own filth.

The next day, at around 7pm, I was at the mercy of the psychiatrist, because if I found myself in that ward, the patients would've eaten an agro cunt like me alive.

She grilled me about the overdose for all of thirty minutes, as I was forced to justify why I did it.

She let me go home, back to Burrowes street, because she had cats too, to look after, she said.

I could hear a pin drop when I got home, after mummy dropped me off

I had a shower, and went to sleep. When I woke up, they were right at it, screaming out like animals, stereos on, and drinking alcohol.

I had to stay at mummies every second night, because they were so scary

I told the DHS about it, the property manager, and he told them off. He said they wouldn't bother me again. 

They got worse, and worse. More aggressive. More animal like. More ravenous to terrorise. 

Because I'm a weak cunt, this happened, and no one knows the pain of it, but me, as they got away with it, Scott free. 

I guess it wasn't that bad, and maybe I'm just sensitive to pain.

The best revenge is to be unlike him who performed the injury. Marcus Aurelius

 

I am a cheesy cunt. My whole algorithm is full of cheesyness. I'm not even a piece of shit, I'm just a cheeseball.

Pungent Cunts

 I had the $40 in my account for vetpay to debit, but, because I had set up recurring payments to revolut, I woke up today with only $36. 

I thought I'd take the route least likely to end me up looking like a bitch, and decided to pay the chemist for the script I said I'd pay for yesterday. They just treated me like a dickhead, as I had hit the safety net. I didn't need to pay. 

So, even though I tried, I still copped that filthy stigma, and now I don't have the full $40 to pay vetpay. I'm expecting the $12 to arrive in my revolut account.

By definition, of course, we believe the person with a stigma is not quite human. On this assumption we exercise varieties of discrimination, through which we effectively, if often unthinkingly, reduce his life chances. Erving Goffman

 

It's hard to live alongside entitled cunts

I hope that AI does end humanity.

Silence becomes painful when it replaces a conversation that once felt like home, carrying a heavy emotional weight that words fail to express.

 

Injustice

My chronic conditions, and the debilitating nature of my psychological complex is know only to me, because I can't explain it, or voice it to anyone. They will only stigmatize me. The truth of what's happening to me is hidden from everyone, and left unobserved. My integrity is known only to me.

Dying alone

 I was having a "private moment" in the bedroom, wearing my earbuds, and a young kid yells out something at my bedroom window, "poofter!" or something.

I feel like I'll end up that destitute pensioner, alone, dying on my couch from the smoking, broken mentally beyond repair and everyone will dislike me. I already have the advanced care plan, stating I want to do the dying process at home, as the hospital system would stigmatize me, and treat me poorly if I went there. 

I notice societies pungent dynamic, and it makes me want to dry reach.