Sacrifice

Ways in which I sacrifice-
I've never held my son or daughter in my arms, because I refuse to bring anyone into this f*cked-up world.
I make sacrifices for animals.  For instance, I could probably make a good living as a chef or cook (My mother made me start cooking when I was quite young.), but I refuse to prepare meat for people.  I pay more for things that are cruelty-free.  I haven't eaten exactly what I wanted since 2002.
Perhaps, one day, I'll make the ultimate sacrifice for animals.

If you eat beef, hamburger, or steak, you're killing cows and me.
If you eat ham, bacon, or pork, you're killing pigs and me.
If you eat any animal, you're killing that animal and me.

Life Is...

 
Life is...

a nightmare

pain

hard

torture

violent

brutal

unforgiving

relentless

ruthless

merciless

shit

cruel

sometimes boring

annoying

frustrating

intimidating

suffocating

ugly

sometimes beautiful (which can be hard to appreciate when you're miserable)

occasionally okay

ultimately horrible

Pigs

 


Any day now, any day now, I shall be released

Reasons to Live

 
Reasons to live:
Music
An appreciation for nature, which includes animals
A desire to change the world for the better

Smile

 

I've always liked this ditty.  When you read the lyrics, you might think it's insane.  Smile at everything?  Like a funeral, mass shooting, or terroritst attack?

 

Smile

Nat King Cole

Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it's breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile

That's the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile

(Don't Fear) the Reaper

 
One of my all-time favorite songs: (Don't Fear) the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, who are from the same island I am-the long one.  Simultaneously beautiful and morbid.

All our times have come
Here, but now they're gone
Seasons don't fear the reaper
Nor do the wind, the sun or the rain
(We can be like they are)
Come on baby
(Don't fear the reaper)
Baby take my hand
(Don't fear the reaper)
We'll be able to fly
(Don't fear the reaper)
Baby I'm your man
La, la la, la la
La, la la, la la
Valentine is done
Here but now they're gone
Romeo and Juliet
Are together in eternity
(Romeo and Juliet)
40, 000 men and women every day
(Like Romeo and Juliet)
40, 000 men and women every day
(Redefine happiness)
Another 40, 000 coming every day
(We can be like they are)
Come on baby
(Don't fear the reaper)
Baby take my hand
(Don't fear the reaper)
We'll be able to fly
(Don't fear the reaper)
Baby I'm your man
La, la la, la la
La, la la, la la
Love of two is one
Here but now they're gone
Came the last night of sadness
And it was clear she couldn't go on
Then the door was open and the wind appeared
The candles blew and then disappeared
The curtains flew and then he appeared
(Saying, "Don't be afraid")
Come on baby
(And she had no fear)
And she ran to him
(Then they started to fly)
They looked backward and said goodbye
(She had become like they are)
She had taken his hand
(She had become like they are)
Come on baby
(Don't fear the reaper)

Death Culture

 
I'm a bitcher and a moaner.  I'm a sad sack.  Hey, you, don't worry, be happy!  Don't sweat the small stuff (And it's all small stuff!).
Thanks so much.  I feel so much better.
Here's the problem; once again, we have a mass shooting in the U.S.  I've said life sucks.  You're not supposed to say "Life sucks."  You're supposed to turn that frown upside down.  Don't you think these shooters think (or thought) that life sucks?  Maybe, if they didn't think that life sucks, they wouldn't have thrown their f*cking lives away (along with others').  Same thing with terrorists.  If you're living in some shit hole in Afghanistan with nothing, what do you have to lose?  I hate that the image Americans put out is we're all billionaires and millionaires.  It fosters hate.
If you have nothing to lose, and you want to die, you might want to take others with you.  You're gonna die.  You hate society and it's inequities.  Someone who doesn't mind dying, and wants to harm others, is very dangerous and hard to stop.  
I haven't bitched and moaned about this in a while, so it's time.  Obviously, I've been brought into the world, and I resent it every day.  I hate my parents.  They brought me into a world of death, pain, disease, mass shootings, weapons, bullies, terrorism, etc.  I really could go on and on about what's wrong with this society and this world.  All you need to do is go "back in the day" with my posts.  I'm sure I've covered the subject fully.
But, seriously, do you think it's a stretch that virtually all of these mass shooters, not to mention other murder/suicide folks, thought that life sucks?  They probably hated life.  They probably hated it so much that they wanted to take others with them.
This is a world full of violence, pain, and misery, yet people continue to procreate at a rate that I find to be insane.  Biological parents are selfish.  They procreate for their own sake.  They want a baby to cheer them up.  They want a reason to live.  They want a friend.  They want to make someone that will take care of them when they're too old to take care of themselves.
Me?  I've never brought a person or animal into this f*cked-up world, and I'm proud of that every single day.  Unfortunately, it's been done to me.                

I Never Signed Up for This

 
I never agreed to live in a world of...
violence
hatred
rage
rape
disease
aggression
terrorism
injury
pain
molestation
intimidation
domination
humiliation
discrimination
frustration
shit
piss
vomit
blood
mucus
garbage
death
depression
suicide
shitty jobs
commuting
driving
accidents
carnage
unemployment
obsolescence
multiple allergies
flossing
tooth brushing
gargling
bruising
showering (boring)
hand washing
dish washing
ass wiping
toilet cleaning
sink cleaning
stove cleaning
dusting
shoelace tying
door opening
door closing
window opening
window closing
vacuuming
sweeping

weapons
muggings
robberies
home invasions
war
burglaries
lay offs
greed
dishonesty
cheating
users
abusers
bullies
evil
evil doers
evil deeds
backlash
blow back
revenge
money lovers
people who don't care about animals
people who regularly, and thoughtlessly, contribute to animal cruelty by buying meat, eggs, dairy, leather, fur, etc.

What Makes Me Cry

Taken in Paris after the November 13, 2015 attacks.

What makes me cry?  In alphabetical order, life, movies, music, and terrorist attacks.

Prose & Poetry

 
Do Not Weep, Maiden, for Death Is Kind

What I want to do most is sleep.  That is how I know I want to die, for death is eternal sleep.  There is  no waking from it.  Every morning, I'm disappointed to have woken.  What I really want is to die, peacefully and painlessly, in my sleep.
Perhaps no one believes the person who threatens suicide will do it .  So many people have bitched and moaned about life and suicide, but most of them won't do it.
I was recently told, during a mental health appointment, that alcohol is a depressant.  I knew that already.  My response?  Life, existence, is a depressant, and it is much more powerful than alcohol.
Now that I've accepted death, I feel a certain peace: a peace that passeth all understanding.
Except for animals, I don't care anymore.  I've heard that (I don't care anymore.) in at least 2 songs (Phil Collins and Wilco).
As I wrote in my memoir, Memoir of an American Loser (under my pen name-Zach Murphy), suicide, for me, is like a blanket that sits on a high shelf in a closet.  It's ready to be employed whenever I'm sure the world is too cold to bear.
And if I kill myself, don't weep for me.  Weep for yourself, and the rest of the living (with the obvious exception of Isis members), because there is no pain and suffering in death: only in life.
I hope my writing survives: my 2 books, one about people's horrible treatment of animals (Veganman) and the other a humorous, bittersweet memoir about the pain of life (Memoir of an American Loser), this blog, and, to a lesser degree, what I've posted on Facebook and Twitter.  There's a lot of other stuff too, but it either isn't finished, or there's no place for it at this time.

Life Sucks: a poem

Life sucks
Life ducks?
Life trucks?
Life tucks?
Life bucks?
Life f*cks?
Life clucks?
Life pucks?
Life mucks?
Life luck's?
Life lux?
No, life sucks

Computer Blues

 
I have not been able to open my documents using the Microsoft Word Starter 2010 program that came preinstalled on my computer for days now.  I'm usually pretty good at finding answers to my computer problems: not this time.  Perhaps it had something to do with the recent "free" upgrade to Windows 10 that Microsoft offered to me.  If I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have taken the bait.  I have been able to use Libreoffice to open documents that I don't care that much about.  But I was updating Veganman before this happened, which was written using MS Word Starter 2010.  I'm nervous about opening, working on, and saving it using Libreoffice.  I don't want it to get messed up or changed.  I'm hoping it'll be OK (if I have to do it that way), because I can't find a solution to this dilemma.
So I think it's likely I'll change my previous position and rat on my next-door neighbor.  These kids are so f*cking loud.  Their mother is loud too.  She obviously doesn't care to be a good parent and keep her kids under control.  I've seen 2 kids, and I've seen 3 kids.  I assume she has 3 young children.  She's a shitty parent.  That's how I feel about it.  She allows her kids to bother the neighbors.  She acts as though she, and her kids, are entitled to be here.  We'll see about that.  I don't want to be a snitch, but I don't want to deal with this shit either.  Since snitches are so hated, doesn't it take balls to be one?  If I can improve my living situation by making a phone call, why wouldn't I?  That's me.  I don't care what other people think.  I don't care what other people do.  I think and do what I feel like thinking and doing.
Have I mentioned how much I hate pooping?  I hate yawning almost as much.  That's how I start the day: pooping and yawning.  Yawning while pooping.  Do I even have to explain why pooping sucks?  I hope not.  It sucks even more for me because of my OCD; it makes me wipe excessively.  Yawning sucks.  It's boring.  Sometimes, my mouth opens so widely, that it hurts my jaw.              

Tiny Leopard-Print Shoes

How could I?  Sure, there's a violation,but I can't unsettle children.  It's not right.  My neighbor has been harboring peoplein his apartment that, I believe, aren't on the lease.  At least 2 young children, and their mother, have been joining my neighbors: a married couple.  There has been extra noise to deal with.  The kids have been loud as early as 7:00 am in the hallway, which I've heard.  First of all, it's not cool to snitch.  Secondly, it's not cool to mess with the lives of kids.  I need to tell myself there things, because I don't like the situation.  I need to try to stop myself from calling the rental office about this situation.  It helps to picture the tiny leopard-print shoes I saw in the hallway outside my neighbor's door.  They must belong to one of the girls that's staying there.  I haven't walked a mile in her shoes, and I never will.  My feet couldn't fit into them. 

Closer:Poetry & Prose

 
The closer I get to death, the better.
The closer I get to suicide, the better.
The closer I get to the bottom, the better.
The closer I get to the end, the better.
For that is where the pain will end.
Please allow me to update you on my marvelous career.  Things were going just fine working as a janitor at a bookstore.  Then I walked into the men's room, to clean it, and it hit me: the smell.  It was a bad smell.  I checked the toilets.  Sure enough, one of them was filled with poop soup.  It was so f*cking gross.  I began to gag.  Tears streamed down my face.  What could I do?  I flushed it: hoping it wouldn't overflow.  It didn't, but the noxious mess didn't go down.  I kept flushing it, as I kept gagging with tears rolling down my unremarkable face.  What if I have to plunge it?!  What if some of it splashed onto me as I was doing that?  Fortunately, I made some progress with my flushes.  Finally, after several flushes, it was gone.  But, not surprisingly, the toilet had been annihilated with poop stains.  Lucky me, it was my job to clean it, which led to more gagging and tears.
That wonderful assignment ended.  I was merely filling in for a man that cleans bathrooms 7 days a week.  I'd rather be homeless or dead.  My job developer got me another cleaning job.  I wasn't at all excited about it.  First of all, it was quite a long drive away.  I accepted it anyway.  He took me to my first night there.  I soon learned it would be my responsibility to clean 4 buildings for a company that manufactures bricks or something like that.  The place was filthy.  Floors needed to be mopped, carpets needed to be vacuumed, and toilets needed to be cleaned.  I would spend at least 2 and a half hours working there that night, but I knew pretty early on that I didn't want that shitty job.  On the way back, my job developer and I didn't talk much at all.  I wanted to wait until we were in the parking lot of my apartment building.  Just before getting out of his jeep, I said, "I'm sorry, but I don't want this job."  He said, "Yeah, I figured that."
I'd rather be homeless or dead than clean other people's shit out of toilets. 
          

Garbage Society

 
I can only speak for the American society, because that is where I have lived my entire life, but I suspect societies in other nations are quite similar.
Nature is perfect.  Nature is beautiful.  Sure, violence exists in nature, and it certainly exists in our society.  But this is a violent world.  It always has been, and it probably always will be.  But our society sucks compared to nature.
Society is very hypocritical.  Murder is a serious crime.  Thou shalt not kill is a commandment.  But animals are killed, unnecessarily, on a massive scale.  It's also okay to kill during war.  In fact, the more foreigners you kill, the more of a hero you are.
Society is not fair.  In the wild, life is more fair than human society.  It's simple: survival of the fittest.  Conservatives like to pretend life in our society is fair, but this is the problem.  Some people are born into a situation in which there is no father and the mother is an abusive crack whore.  Many people are born into situations in which their parent(s) are lazy, stupid, or uncaring.  Other people have parents that are intelligent, successful, and caring.  Perhaps they feel as though if their sons or daughters are failing, then they are failing.
So we're not all dealt the same hand.  I pretty much fall into the middle category.  I am the result of a teenage pregnancy.  I was not wanted.  I was, as my mother once told me, "a mistake."  How am I a mistake, when you're the one that made the mistake?  My father left my mother and me when I was 2 years old.  My mother is stupid, lazy, and uncaring.  I come from a cold family that, I believe, has a history of mental illness.  What I find to be interesting is that I have 3 cousins, and we're all in our 30s and 40s.  None of us have children.  The odds are certainly against that.  I think we all know we come from a crazy family, and we shouldn't pass the insanity on.  People that come from situations like mine (and worse) have lived miserable lives in poverty, prison, and they have committed suicide.
And, of course, there is the treatment of animals.  Humans have decided that animals are here for them to use in any way they see fit.  Again, people don't need to eat meat to survive.  The healthiest foods to eat are veggies, fruits, nuts, seeds, beans, and whole grains.  In our capitalistic society, animals are things to make a profit from.  "Food" animals, like pigs and chickens, are crammed into buildings, as many as possible, because that is the way that will make the most money.  They frequently aren't given needed medical care, because it would cost money to alleviate their suffering.
I could go further, but I'm making too many keyboard gaffes, and I'm over it.       

Overflowing with Anger

 
I had been unemployed for quite a while: more than 2 years.  Probably because my employment record is so shitty, no one has wanted to hire me.  I went to a place called RochesterWorks!  I asked them to help me find a job.  I was interviewed by an obese woman.  She asked me why I had been out of work so long.  Depression and OCD, I said.  She referred me to ACCES-VR, which helps people with disabilities get jobs.  It's been a long process, but I've been working the last few days as a janitor.  My shifts last from 1.5-2.5 hours per day.  It's temporary; it will be over in a week.  I'm filling in for a guy with a prosthetic leg who's on vacation in Florida.  I clean a Barnes & Noble.  I sweep, mop, vacuum, take out the trash, and clean the bathrooms.  I've cleaned shitty toilets.  Today, I found what I assume was a used maxi pad.  It seemed too big to be a mini pad.  It had quite a bit of dried blood on it. 
The problem is that the guy who got me this gig told me that it paid $8 an hour.  I said okay anyway.  But then I thought to look up the current minimum wage in the state of New York; it's $8.75 an hour.  I haven't been able to ask him about that yet, because it's the weekend.  I certainly will ask him, or someone else, about it tomorrow.  My anger has been building over this issue.  People who clean other people's shit out of toilets deserve to earn at least the minimum wage.  
I'm also angry at my neighbor.  Shortly after he and his fat, ugly wife first moved in, he played some loud music.  I tried to nip it in the bud.  I went over there and rang the doorbell.  I asked him to turn it down.  He apologized and turned it down.  It stayed down for a while: weeks or months.  Then it got louder again.  He also sings quite loudly.  He sings at the top of his lungs in his bathroom, which goes right through the wall.  I've yelled at him, through the wall, to shut up, but it never worked.  He also was singing in the hallways.  He'd come into the building singing loudly.  He'd continue until he got to his apartment.  Then he'd come out of his apt. singing loudly.  One time, I opened my door abruptly, and he looked at me.  "What's up?" I said with a mean look on my face.  He just shut up and skedaddled.
I got so sick and tired of hearing his f*cking singing that I wrote a note to him and put it under his door.  Then I went out.  When I returned, there was a note under my door.  It was written by his wife, and it was angry and defiant.  "I pay my rent.  You no work.  I'm a good person, and so is my husband.  Yes I sing, and in church too.  Don't put no more paper under my door.  Don't knock on my door.  Call the office if you have a problem."  I'm going by memory.  It was very poorly written.  I'm sure I just improved it.  However, things got better.  The loud music stopped, and the as*hole stopped singing in the halls.  When he and I pass each other by, we glare at each other.  I don't like him.  Now, after quite a bit of peace, the loud music has returned and so has his singing through the wall we share.  So this is my life.  I wake up early, clean shit out of toilets, and come home to more shit.          

Trying

The Golden Gate Bridge: a life taker

Life is so complicated.  Today, as usual, I listened to the radio.  When I heard that a man who attempted to commit suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge was going to be featured on an hour-long talk show, I was all ears.
I've blogged about suicide before.  I have attempted to commit suicide myself.   I wanted to die.  The good news, for me, is that I finally realized I needed help with my depression, and I got some.  I'm still alive.  Where there's life, there's hope.
Over 2,000 people have committed suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge.  I even saw a documentary about this particular subject.  The filmmakers focused their camera on the bridge and got footage of people ending their lives by jumping off of it.  About 30-something (36?) people have survived that particular jump.  The man I listened to today jumped and survived it.  It was a good show.  This survivor of suicide spoke quite well.  He mentioned that there is a plan to put nets under the bridge, so no one will ever be able to use it to commit suicide again.  He said that people have complained that the nets would take away from the aesthetic value of the bridge.  He also said that that particular notion made him sick.  I concur.  He also said there should be no stigma when it comes to mental illness.  I agree 100%.  No one judges anyone for taking their high-blood-pressure medication; no one should judge anyone for taking their antidepressants.       
I realize that I have expressed a lot of negativity here.  Every time I did, I was just being honest.  Many times, I've felt that life sucks.  Many times, I have wished that I had never been born.  "Many times I've been alone, and many times I cried (The Beatles)."  But, please understand, I hate suicide.  Suicide is a monster.  It kills people every day.  As many issues as I have had, and continue to have, with life, I don't want to kill myself.  It is so f*cking ugly.  It's the mind killing the body.  The body doesn't want to die.  It struggles at the end of a noose and it tries as hard as it can to not drown, for instance.
So suicide, for me, isn't a real option.  I might not be able to do it anyway.  I have to try to make my life better.  I also have to try to make the lives of animals better.  Animals have provided me with a reason to live.  I want to help them, because they need it so desperately.