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.
I hear you. I recently lost my companion pet, and most of my friends kept telling me to just get over it - it's not like you lost a family member. WRONG. She was a family member to me, so I had every right to grieve and feel sad about how most animals are considered less than human beings.
ReplyDeletePeople are often cruel on purpose. Animals are not. That should be a wake up call for all of us.
Sorry about the employment struggles you are going through, and hope you soon find a job that is worthy of you. Capitalism no longer works for those of us that need it most. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for you. Hang in there.
Thanks Dylan. You're right about animals. To me, it's so obvious the unnecessary violence against animals is completely out of control. Where there's life, there is hope. I don't want to kill myself, but life can be a nightmare with depression.
ReplyDeleteI hope you choose to live. We need more animal lovers in this crazy (materialistic) world. Please check out my blog: scroll down to the second post (the one after Janis Joplin), and I hope it might help you to feel less depressed about people and life. Believe me, I know all about clinical depression: It's the worst sort of killer. I've tried (and failed). Sometimes I think blogging is the only thing keeping me alive.
ReplyDeleteAnd please feel free to leave me a comment! Strength in numbers :)