I don't have to know ya to know you're a fucking cunt.

Fuck the world

 I feel like a washed up, broke pensioner that is going to lose even the little he has until he's totally alone, in a state of despair and desperation.

I remember I was at the Bendigo bank. This guy, in tradie uniform, casually went up and withdrew about $5000 like it was nothing. He started having a conversation with the lady serving him. He looked like an asshole 

I immediately thought 'stigma'. 

I bet he'd get nasty with a mentally handicapped pensioner like me, if he had to

Bendigo banks app won't let me back in. I tried to log in from my Linux PC, but I forgot my password. When I tried to log back in on the phone, I keep getting an error saying there was an issue with your login attempt. Please try again on another device. It got me thinking what if they discriminated me to the point of not allowing me to have an online bank account. Like "someone is trying to log in from Linux, it must be a hacker. We'll lock him out. He's not using windows. Who the hell doesn't use windows!?"

I was trying to download a bank statement for vet pay for my sick cat.

There's better words for this than stigma, or discrimination. I'm just not sure what they are yet.

I reject everything

Nothing belongs to me that can't be taken away but my body, and I have the right to take it. Society has proven how cruel, unforgiving and hostile it is. Yet I'll be brought to my knees, begging to my god for help again, and again because of my powerlessness.

I am too weak, they are too mighty for me.

I forfeit my life.

I'm the result of 45 years of trauma, and incessant bullying.

Condemned from Birth

I didn't start this. I seize up around people because of the trauma human beings have caused me. 

I'm not a conventional person, and I am disgusted by socially conformed people. From the age of four years old, my experiences weren't normal. I started thinking I was an animal. Then the incessant bullying started. My entire life, people have targeted me with discrimination and ridiculed me. 

I am not an educated man, but I was bullied out of school, and they got pretty nasty. I have never trusted people, at all since. 

Especially after they tried to bully me out of life by provoking a suicide attempt. How could I forget the desperation I felt.

I feel like I have been condemned, yet I have reverence for my god. 

Life is beautiful, society isn't 

Waste of space

Everyone thinks I'm a dickhead, and they're not wrong. I'm a fuckin dipshit, but someone with any confidence could tell me better about what I am.

It's hard to navigate life being such a fucking idiot, good for nothing dipshit. No wonder I was bullied so badly in highschool. They tried to bully me out of life with that weak suicide attempt I tried, and as usual, I came out looking like a fucking bitch.

I fucking hate that.

Life is fucking challenging. I'm born against my will, then I have no choice but to endure the really shitty circumstantial dynamics of society, then I'm forced to endure the dying process in a hospital bed, most likely. 

It's the opposite of liberating. You could almost evaluate the exact opposite of anything and everything in life to get a clear picture of what Utopia would look like.

Fuck that

Unliberated

I'm anticipating a very psychologically painful dying experience, where I'm completely alone, and I don't have the credibility, or respectability to receive pity, or compassion. 

I will go out knowing I was right about what a fucking cunt mother nature is, as it unleashes it's impending wraith upon me in its cruelty. 

The universe is not a loving place, but an unjust puppeteer, and I'm an utterly powerless puppet. 

I have no credibility or validation, but I know I'm right. 

Fuck the world.

pointless suffering

I'm a cunt and a piece of shit because that's all society will allow me to be and my place is to suffer every miserable pointless day of my pathetic life.

I will describe my side of the story and the sound of the description will break sound itself, and it will be a revelation to every cunt that bullied me and treated me like the piece of shit I am.

Pungent dynamics

I was ruminating the other day. Thinking about all the times I've been bullied by others. 

They targeted me as soon as I started school, before that, life was great.

The experience of bullying from every person at the highschool I went to. The pungent dynamics. The way they discriminated me like a piece of shit because I liked Nirvana. 

A cunt named kade Bolitho held me up and kneed me in the balls so hard that I was on the ground, in agony, looking like a fucking bitch

Eventually I left school because they were too mighty for me, and went into isolation, being poisoned by my mother and her partner at the time.

I couldn't forget the grin on his face as I stood there, in front of the mental health nurses, looking like a bitch, then being carted off to the psyche ward to start my stint in the system.

The fucking teacher that felt like he could stand me up in front of the whole class and run me down for the scumbag I was, dehumanising me.

I stank like shit. 

Then I started in the public housing units, complying to the institution and the politics of jailbird neighbours, all while loving masturbation, a bit too much.

They tried to heckle me out of life, I performed a weak suicide attempt to escape their wraith.

Up until about 2 years ago, when I stopped conforming to societal traditions and pungent dynamics. Death is a manmade thing because even the words are created by man.

Most people will now down to peer and sociatel constraints, and dynamics. Those people usually find themselves in the process of dying on a hospital bed in the clutches of the hospital system, which is far from perfect.

In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

Living in a nightmare

After I attempted suicide by overdosing on all my antipsychotic medications, and anything else I had in the house to escape the wraith of my torturous neighbours, where I used to live, the nurses and doctors at the hospital assumed I took too many pills to try to get high, that I accidentally overdosed, because I'm a mental health patient. 

They treated me like a piece of shit, as I lay there in their bed, stinking of vomit.

I was eventually at the mercy of the psychiatrist, with a convenient view of the psych ward outside the window. She ended up showing me mercy and sent me home. 

It was completely silent all night, then chaotic the next day, and one of the neighbours stood outside my door, talking about the smell of death in my direction.

You will condemn me, if you conceive the context of my "illness."

Fear thy neighbour

I don't trust people since I attempted suicide because my neighbours tormented me, every waking moment where I used to live. 

One hasn't experienced hell, until one is at the mercy of neighbours. 

I remember all the bullying, in primary school and in high school. They terrorised me, until I had no choice but to drop out. All my "friends" abandoned me at that time. 

I remember after that, I committed the ultimate sin by smoking cannabis once a week. The consequences were bad trips. The first time I knew I was in trouble was when I was watching Seinfeld back in the 90s, and the people's arms made a "ghhhhs" sound when they moved them. Don't get me started about how I perceived their brains inside their heads. 

The original sin didn't justify the suffering I experienced. It's hard to endure these thoughts whilst having a panic attack, and your heart is palpitating, and you actually hear the gushing sound inside your chest.

These days, I'm clean from any drugs, but the nightmare still remains. 

It's defeating to be the observer of such a pungent side of humans, as they continuously treat me like a piece of shit

I think others are antagonised by me, because I see their ugly sides, I am an observer, perceiving people from a vantage point that no one else ever has.

It doesn't matter who you are, if you have a problem with me, you are a dictator of my impending misery. 

I fucking hate people.

Stuck in Transgression

I went to the doctors to get the antipsychotic injection today. As I was talking to the doctor, towards the end, I think he noticed my situation. The look on his face, was like a deer, stunned by headlights. 

I left his office, and as I was arranging another appointment, to get the next injection, the experience in the doctors office was flashing through my mind like a painting, being watered down. 

I feel like if someone ever hit me, he'd call the police on me, and they'd be too concerned about my mental health, to help, but instead, cart me off to the psychiatric ward. 

Mother nature has a way of sneaking it's hand in, and taking any credibility away from me, while others are playing out the dynamic, because of the negative energy that follows me around. There is a conspiracy against me, and no one will ever give me the benefit of the doubt. You will only feel disgust, because I am a repulsive person. You'll discriminate me, in a similar way that black people, or homosexauls were once discriminated, because that is your human nature.

Dying in transgression

I am a broken person. Hyper vigilance never sleeps, and is a constant reminder, that there's a remote chance that I may find myself remembering what true misery feels like in real time. 

Noone will enlighten me, there's no strength in me. This is a point where I have no choice but to run to my god. There's no validation, or mercy for me, and I must turn around and go back. 

This is hell on earth 

Bibliography

It's not that I hate you, but that you are antagonised by me, which makes me feel defensive, this creates a negative feedback loop. 

When I hear my heart beating in my chest, I associate that with the pain of a heart attack, or a razor blade slicing, because I smoke cigarettes, which anti smoking commercials, on free to air television, has trained my mind to expect. 

The quirky context is that, while I was developing this imagery, as I was experiencing puberty, twenty five years ago, I was witnessing Kung Lao, of Mortal Kombat 2, perform his hat slice fatality, on the sega genesis. Not to mention the messed up Urotsukidōji: Legend of the demon womb's language games, which was done by design by the creators. I also used a lot of ampthetimines throughout my youth. 

I think of my brain inside my head, and I associate that with pain, and panic, from traumatic psychotic episodes I have endured in the past. I look at beings, and I see them at a quantum scale. I have been initiated.

I have five senses. Sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell. All these are how my brain makes sense of things at a quantum scale. 

My universe is only what I've been told by algorithms, etc. I don't know if there is a moon at all, as I haven't seen it with my eyes, to "know" that it exists; I haven't perceived it with my earthly ability, and even then, I don't know the context. My impression still comprises computer-generated visuals, shown to me by documentaries, or other noise the algorithms have shown me throughout my life.

I'm like a spiders abdomen, deflating, as it "farts"out of its sack. At least, that's the kind of thing I'd spend all my time drawing, in my youth

I grew up wearing smelly clothes, looking like Kurt Cobain, in highschool, and pissing myself every night, because of medications, the nights before mental health authorities had me incarcerated. 

I am an outcast by choice. This is beyond a psychiatric disorder.

The flip side

My whole life, I have lived with extreme hyper sensitivity, hostility, disrespect, and abuse from others throughout my life, on a continual basis, the constant bullying, in high school, in living situations, and online. 

The torture I endured, in which I was targeted by my animalistic neighbours, where I used to live, with intimidation tactics, attempts to scare me every day, day in, day out, subsequently led me to attempt suicide, in my intensely hyper vigilant state, as a means to escape their terrorism,and trained me to be the person I am today.

I am a big believer that what goes around, should come around, and not left in the hands of a societal definition of fate, or the man-made notion of 'karma'. 

This dynamic will see wrongdoers not only get away with what they did to me, but also receive a reward for doing it. They will continue to receive a 'green light', to commit unjust acts against me, or others. 

I imagine others who aren't living in this 'hell' of heightened sensitivity, and constant self projection, must suffer with a lot of boredom, and mundane days. 

Life is so easy for them, that it's a dull experience to be alive. 

The upside, is that things come easy to them, so they are able to fulfil basic requirements to live a relatively normal life, as they are too bored to care about much. 

              

Consequencial dynamics at play

Like a set of Domino's knocking each other down, seems to be the consequencial dynamics at play when I am subject to succumbing to what I am unable to endure, yet I have no choice but to endure. 

Circumstance can, and does bend a soul, until it breaks. 

As one who is suffering, I forever keep finding myself at the mercy of my circumstances, simply because I strongly disagree.

I wrote up my will today, which stated that I am not to be taken to the hospital, when I must endure the process of dying. My electric bike's motor died soon after I organised that, and, like a slave, I walked the bike home on a 38° day. Right now, my heart feels heavy, litterly, with dread. 

Falling into karma's snares

I've been waking up from sleep, and upon waking, I'm already in stealth mode, dodging curveballs, and consequencial dynamics that I can't escape.

Usually, it will come in the form of intrusive noise, by neighbours. My thoughts usually race, as I'm observing and discovering the toxicity of the dynamics surrounding me.

Anyone who happens to be in my vicinity ,can only condemn, judge, and persecute me for my complaint, as karma is busy at work sorting me out.

I have my headphones charged at all times, and in my panic, I will put them on and play white noise, very loud.

I've discovered a pungent side of a charming, beautiful side of life, where I am the only one aware of the injustice it is committing against me.

Manifested nightmare

I am caught in a self percepuating vicious cycle, where I experienced trauma early in my life. 

I expect hostility from people, I project that onto them in overwhelm, and in turn they react with a stress response, which is a mixture of misunderstanding, a holier than thou attitude, and a feeling they remember after they experience it. 

This requires me to have humility, as it only makes sense to love people. Karl Jung may relate to everyone in their "algorithm," that I experience difficulty with, as perhaps an archetype for my own unfaced shadow.