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.

You twisted fuck

People take offense to my twisted perception of nature. 

You think I'm sick. What kind of twisted fuck would create life, force you into existence, then force you to endure the dying process, most likely in a state of impending doom in a fucking hospital bed, where the hospital staff get a real kick out of duty of care.

 

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.

Suicide over Embarrassment, and humiliation

Everyone is the enemy. It is more liberating to take one's life, than to succumb to the embarassment of succumbing.

Only suitable people that meet an adequate social critiria are entitled to relaxing with friends, family, or loved ones.

Unfortunately, some of us, that have the social status of 'mental health patient', or 'welfare recipient' are not entitled to those privileges. We are lower class citizens, so we are lower priority. We get the shit, whilst more suitable humans get the good things. 

We are entitled to nothing, and your suffering has no witnesses to validate it, not when you are choking on you're own puke from shitting out of your mouth.

This is hell on earth, and there's no other form of purgatory other than to have absolutely no credibility, dignity, or integrity in anything that you are.

Looking forward to the afterlife.

I'm stuck in a perpetual state of purgatory. I have been engaging in extreme pessimism every day in almost every interaction with anyone for about 5 years now. 

I'm noticing that conformed people, or people that have been trained by societies have manifested into a conspiracy type dynamic that is the results of the consequencial dynamic. 

It feels otherworldly. If anyone laughed, or asked me what makes it feel like purgatory, the way they would need me to justify and explain to them what makes me think I'm in a state of purgatory is an example of the manifested purgatory.

Everyone is part of the manifested conspiracy, there's no-one that isn't part of it. I believe I am the only human being in history to have ever experienced this. 

I am completely detached from societal norms, and I find so much about people intolerable.

The authoritian hospital systems, the toxic dynamics of corporate pigs. I think that eventually something will give and I will take my life.

I am not afraid of the afterlife, but the ugly dynamics of humans and society scares me more than I can tolerate.

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

House of cards

I bet I stink like shit, huh. The smell of incontinence and poverty. 

Your stigma makes you seem cold and hostile. Unforgiving, whilst you go about your conformed life 

You learnt your facts from an institution.

Addiction makes me smell bad, like shit.

You are in your sociatel algorithm, overlooking the sad realities of people living in poverty, who are considered the shit of society, totally oblivious to your own trespasses because you're so deep into your pungent dynamic.

You probably invest in life insurance, because you fully believe that one million and one things will end you up in the institution of the healthcare system, dying as you lay there, in your own shit in your deathbed.

Knowledge without justice ought to be called cunning rather than wisdom.Plato

 

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.

I don't think I'll be playing the Mirage or the Tropicana when I'm 40. MC Ren

 

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

 

My ultimate aim is to make euthanasia a positive experience. Jack Kevorkian

 

It is always by way of pain one arrives at pleasure. Marquis de Sade

 

Disempowerment

I imagine a hypothetical Utopia, and how dismal the experience of life is in comparison. 

In a constant state of succumbing to others, or consequence, life feels more like a prison than true liberation. 

Pain is mother nature's way of enslaving it's creations. 

To be pushed beyond endurance thresholds, mother nature knocks us off, one by one. There's nothing empowering about that. 

Take away disempowerment, and power isn't "a thing." 

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."