This World Is Not for Me

These are reasons why this world is not for me:
Violence-there is way too much of it, and there probably always has been.
Misery-I see it all around me.  I'm miserable.  Many of my coworkers are, etc.
Pain-it hurts.
Way too many people are cruel to animals (Buying meat is being cruel to animals, because one supports animal cruelty when one does it.).
Way too many people bring people and/or animals into this world to suffer.
Eating meat and procreating are part of the status quo.
Depression-it's horrible; it makes you choose between suffering and suicide.  And it's extremely expensive to treat it in this greedy country that cares so much more about money than its citizens.
Too much shit-literally and figuratively.  I hate shitting and wiping.  I hate all the shitty things I have to do.
Horrible possibilities-I could be falsely convicted for murder and spend the rest of my life in prison.  People have been paralyzed from the neck down by strokes that came out of nowhere.  Car accidents kill and main people everyday.
Facing the deterioration of the mind and body due to aging.
It's unfair-pieces of shit like Trump get to be rich (and president) as a result of being born with silver spoons in their mouths.  Rich people obviously enjoy a better quality of life than other people do.  They don't have to clean their homes.  They don't have to hear their neighbors.  They don't have to work shitty jobs: surrounded by stupid, boring people.
This smartphone culture is shit.  I hate it.  I hate seeing people staring at their phones.  These smartphone zombies are ruining things.  New York is a great city, but the sidewalks are clogged with these assholes.  They could be looking at the incredible architecture, but, instead, they're looking at Facebook.  I hate selfies.  I don't have a smartphone, and the only reason I joined Facebook and Twitter is to promote my writing.  I have posted some substantive stuff about animal cruelty there: very little frivolous crap (I've posted some things I thought were funny.)..  What I really can't stand is all the self-centered shit you'll find in places like that: boring, stupid people putting up boring, stupid content.  I ultimately think that Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. are shit.
I'm repeating myself here, but it could serve as a posthumous explanation.

Cheated

This one goes out to everyone who has been cheated out of having intelligent, successful, caring parents, and all the disadvantages they have faced, and continue to face, as a result.  Society is unfair, because the people who have shitty parents have to compete with those who have great parents.  It's no mistake I'm writing this on Father's Day: my least favorite holiday.  Brief recap-I'm the result of a teen pregnancy.  My father left my mother and me when I was 2.  I didn't see him many times after that.  I think he had no interest in seeing me; his mother, my nana, tried to bring us together.  The last time I saw him was about 30 years ago.  I haven't heard from him in over 30 years (I saw him by coincidence.).  My nana, before she died, told me that my father convinced her to change her plans and leave no money to me (to him instead, probably) in her will.
The president of America, most unfortunately, is Trump.  Let's compare him to me a little bit.  He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth; I wasn't.  He had a rich daddy who gave him millions of dollars; the only things I can recall my father giving to me were a shirt and some tools: no money.  His father put him on the fast track to success.  It takes money to make money.  Daddy's money allowed him to be a business owner.  I have a tedious, low-paying job.  I hate cleaning; I really do.  As a result, I don't clean much, and my home is depressingly dusty and crappy.  When, do you think, is the last time Trump did any cleaning in his home?  Has he ever cleaned his home?  Same thing as far as laundry goes too.  Trump can afford the safest car on the market: me-no, so I am more likely to be mangled in a car accident than he is.  Do you think Trump has to hear his asshole neighbors through the wall?  I don't think so.  But I do.   
Some people might call me a whiner.  First of all, fuck them.  I never agreed to live this life; I, like everyone, was forced into it.  I certainly never agreed to be dealt a shitty pair of parents, like I was.  The way children are raised matters.  Parents who are always helping their sons and daughters are much more preferable to parents who never, or seldom, help their sons and daughters. 

I Tried

I realized I've explored the spectrum of negativity here while I was bored out of my mind at work yesterday.  I came up with a more positive mantra than the one I usually go with (Time is passing; death is closer.), which is "Time is passing; you have paid time off to take."  Despite the soul-crushing boredom, I was trying to feel positive.  Then I shaved my bald head, and some hair fell into my eye, and it was bad.  My eye is tearing up again just thinking about it.  There was pain, discomfort, and worry.  I have no health insurance.  I couldn't go to a hospital without breaking the bank.  And that's life.  Just when it's going okay, something shitty happens. 
That's another "life is."  Life is suffering with hair in your eye, trying to finish cutting your hair, while, as usual, hearing your scumbag neighbors through the wall.  You want to scream at them to give you a break, because you're suffering worse than usual, but you realize they have a right to make their shitty noise; it's not too early or too late.  And screaming at them would probably just make it worse.  And when horrible things happen to you, other people, and animals, the rest of the world just smiles and laughs, because they don't care.  What a cruel, cold place.  

Unbelievable!

I work in a large hardware store.  Yesterday, I saw a strange sight.  A little girl was holding a guinea pig in a piece of cloth.  Later, the girl, the guinea pig, and, I assume, her parents approached me.  The man had a question for me.  I noticed that the girl hit the guinea pig on the face at least a few times.  She did this with the palm of her hand.  I didn't say anything, for which I am ashamed of myself.  I should have said something.  I don't know much about guinea pigs.  The guinea pig did not make a noise while this was happening, nor did she try to squirm away.  Maybe she didn't hit her hard.  It's no excuse.  I was at work.  Fear of being fired may have been the reason why I didn't act.  That is my only explanation.  But I was a coward.  I have said things to other people before about how they, or their kids, are treating animals.  Animals need people to take a stand and help them when they need it.  I let that tiny, defenseless animal down.  Is she living a life of fear and pain, because this little girl is terrorizing her?  Do the parents not care if the girl treats the guinea pig like a toy, and not a living animal that can feel pain and fear?  And, once again, there is another reason to not bring kids into this world.  Many of them abuse, terrorize, and torture animals.
I had hoped I would get another chance, but I didn't see that family again.  If I do see them again, I hope I will have the courage to say something.  The man was a tough-looking, muscle-bound guy, but I shouldn't be afraid.  Right is right, and wrong is wrong.     
But, again, as an animal lover, how can I possibly enjoy myself while tons of horrible shit is happening to animals all the time?
 

Life of Pain

O, mother and father, why did you condemn me to a life of pain?  That was rhetorical.  I'm living a life of pain, because they had pathetic, unprotected teenage sex.  I hope it was worth it.  Now, as a result, I'm living a miserable life and thinking about suicide.
I previously mentioned that death alone is a great reason to not bring someone into this world.  Here's another: pain.  I'm in pain every waking moment.  Currently, I have pain in my buttocks, legs, feet, hips, back, and soul.  The finest biological parents in the world can't protect their sons and daughters from pain.  And there's tons of it to go around. 
I just want to finish the book I'm working on and put it on Amazon.  Then I'll promote it; I probably won't get the result I want, and then it will be a good time to leave this world.  For me, life is punishment.  It is punishing.  I really don't think I deserve the punishment that's clobbering me on a daily basis.