Friday, October 19, 2018


no explanation: except for the obvious: insanity
I've been meaning to do this for a while. I've tweeted that I can't do my job anymore, and it's true. it's so incredibly boring and repetitive. Not only do I see the same coworkers, but the same customers as well. I hate seeing those faces. I need a change.
Today, I sat on the counter while I had no customers in my fucking face, and a coworker said there was an email about sitting on counters and reading. Before I left, I briefly looked for that email, but didn't find it. I was, after all, wanting to get the fuck out of there ASAP as I always am when the day is finally over. I'll look for it tomorrow night when I'll have plenty of time.
I have no reason to doubt the email was sent. It seems like it's targeting me specifically. I sit on the counter, and I read when I get a chance to. What does the typical person do when they get a chance? They stare at their fucking phones. They text, surf the web, etc. Not me. I recently finally bought a smartphone, because the phone I had died. But I only have an inexpensive talk plan on it: no text and no Internet. I began sitting on the counter, because I have a lot of pain in my feet and legs, and standing all day doesn't help. I suppose I should probably tell them that. Maybe I should also tell them I have depression and OCD, and maybe that's why they think I'm a miserable "asshole."
So now I'm thinking compromise. I won't stop reading when I get a chance: no fucking way.  Seems like, all of a sudden, the store manager has a problem with it. The assistant store managers don't.  So maybe I'll just do what I used to do: lean on the counter.  But if the pain is too great, then I'll go back to sitting on the counter (There are 2, so I'm facing the 1 I'm using.).
There's the possibility of applying for another job in the store. Instead of being a cashier, I'd work in a department (If they'd hire me. I applied for a head cashier job, which I was def qualified for, & I didn't even get an interview: just an email saying "no thanks."). But then I wouldn't be able to stand on the anti-fatigue mats I stand on most of the time; I'd be walking on the concrete floor.  As I mentioned, I already have a lot of pain in my feet and legs. So I think I have to leave. God, I hate looking for a job; I really despise it. And I'm "unskilled," so my chances of getting a good job, that I like, are slim to none. What if I got a job where I have to sit all day? That's probably, in the long run, worse than standing all day. It's not good to bend your spine too much. It seems like we were meant to be "straight:" standing or lying down.
I feel best outside. I've thought about living in the wilderness. But the reality is I'm addicted to living in society with it's comforts (That we pay so dearly for.).  It's not realistic.
So, once again, death. I've contemplated suicide. I've threatened to do it. I've attempted to do it.  Living is pain. It's suffering.
Maybe I'll quit my job and do some traveling. I'll make sure to pack the nylon rope I bought to hang myself about 10 years ago. I don't know how long the trip would last. Being on the road by myself seems lonely, and, from what I remember, it is. I don't like driving at all; the intelligent, sensitive person is stressed out by it, because it's so dangerous. 
So all signs point to death. Even when I'm not working, I'm miserable. Work just takes it to another level.  

Tuesday, January 16, 2018


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It's been a while. As I've mentioned previously, I've been more active on Twitter, & the account is here: In fact, I've been sort of addicted to the instant gratification one can get from posting there.
It was there that I recently discovered the word "antinatalism." This is from Wikipedia:
"Antinatalism is a philosophical position that assigns a negative value to birth. Antinatalists argue that people should refrain from procreation because it is immoral. In scholarly and in literary writings, various ethical foundations have been adduced for antinatalism.  Some of the earliest surviving formulations of the idea that it would be better not to have been born come from ancient Greece.  The term "antinatalism" is in opposition to the term "natalism" or "pro-natalism", and was used probably for the first time as the name of the position by Théophile de Giraud (born 1968) in his book L'art de guillotiner les procréateurs: Manifeste anti-nataliste."
So those who know me from here know that I am an antinatalist.  It turns out that there are quite a few people like me. I didn't know that.  It seemed like I was surrounded by breeders.  Of course I am, but there is a whole community of people who, like me, think it's cruel to bring someone into this world of pain, fear, misery, violence, suffering, addiction, depression, suicide, death, disease, disabilities, hostility, stupidity, frustration, etc.
I'm still not working on my next book. I have no hope that anyone will have any interest in it, so it seems like a waste of time.  

Saturday, December 23, 2017

It's All Shit

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The antidepressants aren't working.  I hate life.  My life is pathetic.  I have no friends.  I don't even understand the concept of friendship.  I'm 100% sure that it's cruel to bring someone into this world.  Life is torture.  This society is so fake, so false.  People put a fake smile on, but there's so much misery.  I know I'm not the only one.  I'll be alone for Xmas again.  I'm always alone for the holidays.  I don't know what to do with my time.  I read a little.  I watch TV.  I tweet.  I exercise.  I'm just going through the motions; none of it brings any real satisfaction.  I should have killed myself a long time ago.  My life is a bad deal; it's consistently shitty.  I have very little hope that my life will get better. 

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

I Must Be Crazy

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I don't give a fuck about my job.  I don't give a fuck about my life.
Today is a day off.  The last few days at work have really sucked.  You see, if I see someone that has some of our merchandise approaching the exit of the store I work at, and I can see that they didn't buy it in that area of the store, I'm supposed to ask to see their receipt, even if they are carrying the stuff in one of our plastic bags.  Obviously, someone could grab a bag, put stuff in it, and walk out while acting as though they bought it.  Although, as I've been obsessively thinking about the events of the past few days, I realize that I've never seen a particular head cashier, who's been working at this store longer than me, ever check a customer's receipt, and that's part of her job.  She spends a lot of time standing by the main exit.  Regardless, she received an award at the last store meeting, because she "seems to never have a bad day."  Maybe she'd have more "bad" days if she was confronting people who were trying to leave the store.  She's also hot as hell, which would explain why she'd get away with anything.
A few days ago, I asked to see a customer's receipt and he was a total prick to me.  It's happened before.  It's not fun.
But, two days ago, a couple of guys exited the area of the store where I was working holding plastic bags with stuff in them.  I didn't ask to see their receipts.  I don't always do it.  I don't like doing it, because I don't like it when people are rude as hell to me, as they sometimes are when I do that.  Later, those guys came back: one of them bringing stuff in one of our bags into the store.  This time, I would confront them.  As they were leaving, I walked up to them and asked to see a receipt.  One of them said, "That's rude" to me.
"That's store policy," I replied.
He got very angry very quickly.  "Don't you see he's got a bag?" he yelled at me.
I walked away and said something about how I don't appreciate being yelled at.  I think his buddy tried to get him to leave as he was leaving, but he said, "No.  He might call the police."  He aggressively got very close to me and continued to yell at me.  I was so worried he was going to hit me, that I backed away from him a few feet.  He pulled a receipt out and yelled, "Do you want to see it?!" multiple times.  Finally, a coworker heard all the yelling and walked over to me, so that he was standing next to me.  The asshole left soon after.  Then I heard one of them laughing loudly outside the building.  I suppose he was laughing at me: the pussy.
I've since realized it's stupid to be a corporate tool.  I should put my ass on the line, I should put my health and safety at risk, for the sake of the owner, who must be rich as hell, highly-paid executives, or wealthy shareholders?  That's crazy.  We have a concrete floor.  Someone could knock me out, and my skull could fracture after it hit that unforgivingly hard floor.  It would be fine if I was murdered; that would be great.  But what if I was crippled?  What if I was injured so badly that I was paralyzed from the waist, or the neck, down?  Then I'd really have a reason to bitch and moan. 
So I need to be smarter about this receipt-checking business.  I should probably ask to see it while I'm behind the counter at least, so there is a barrier between me and him (or them).  Of course, someone could go around the counter, or throw a punch over it.  It should be a judgment call: based on how threatening the person (or people) appear to be.  Most of all, I need to protect myself.  This store rakes in millions of dollars a year, despite what people steal from it.  I need to protect my own skin more than other people's money. 

Wednesday, December 13, 2017


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When it comes to being creative, I continue to be more active on Twitter than anywhere else, & my account is here:
My last book continues to be an absolute failure.  No one has bought it.  I'm considering changing the title.  Obviously, I have nothing to lose.  It is here on Amazon: I haven't been working on my next book.  Considering the lack of interest in this one, it seems like a waste of time.
I've been taking Lexapro (an antidepressant) for almost a month now.  I still think that life sucks.  I still wish I'd never been born.  I still think it's selfish and cruel to bring people or animals into this world to suffer, as all sentient beings do.  So it's not working any miracles.  It makes me more wired, more irritable.  It has definitely affected my sleep negatively.  I tend to get up very early, no matter what time I went to bed, and then I can't get back to sleep.
Antidepressants won't cure everything.  As long as lots of animals are suffering to the degree that they are, I will be depressed by it.  Antidepressants won't get me out of my dead-end "career."  I am an "unskilled' worker.  The thought of going back to school to improve my work situation is a daunting one.  We're guaranteed nothing in this dog-eat-dog world.  I could spend a lot of money and time training for a certain job, and then not get hired for it.  I still have to shit, piss, and blow my nose frequently, all of which I hate.  And there's all the other boring, annoying, soul-destroying things that need to be done everyday: like brushing teeth.  I still hate to drive; it's so stressful.  I have to share the road with tons of stupid, careless people, who could ruin my life (even worse than it already is) in a heartbeat by causing me to get into an accident.
So I'm still very much discouraged when it comes to life.  I have very little hope.  I had great hopes for my book that no one has bought.  I still believe in it; I think it's funny.  But, as I've mentioned before, I'm just one of billions of human ants, desperately trying to be heard, and, as always, failing.     


Friday, December 8, 2017

"Work Sucks, School Sucks, Life Sucks"

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I was watching the news today, and they mentioned the latest school shooting, unless another has occurred by now (only in America).  Before the shooter went on his rampage, he wrote, "Work sucks, school sucks, life sucks."  I couldn't agree more (with the statement, not the shooting).  As usual, I can't be bothered to look back at what I've written before, because I'm lazy, and "been there, done that."  But I'm pretty sure, after another one of these shootings, I wrote that the problem could be as simple as "life sucks."  They hate life, and they hate other people.  People are always annoying the hell out of me.  I don't shoot them, though.  I don't even have a gun.  If I did, I think there's a good chance I'd use it on myself.
I know, I've mentioned suicide plenty of times here, but I'm still alive.  I really don't want to be elderly, though, so I think there's a good chance I'll do it eventually.  I've seen plenty of elderly people that I don't want to be like.  They're fairly helpless.  It's no way to be.  I'm enough of a mess as it is.  If I have trouble with simple functions, like using a credit card, then I definitely don't want to be alive.