No Escape

Even if I was able to get my depression under control, there would still be the pain to endure.  There is no escape from the pain.  It follows me everywhere.  What can I do?  Become addicted to opioids?
I've come up with some plans.  One of them is to prepare for a cross-country trip.  I haven't seen much of America; I've never been to Chicago, for instance.  I'd need a laptop and an IPod.  I'd put much of my music onto the IPod, so I can bring it with me on the trip.  The laptop would be for looking up directions, finding vegan restaurants, etc.  Most importantly, I'd bring a rope, which I already have.  When the money ran out, or I was just ready, I'd hang myself.  Perhaps I'll plan a trip with a final destination of Alaska.  I want to see it.  Maybe I'll hang myself from a tree in the middle of nowhere there. 
Or I could just quit my job and stay home.  And when the money ran out, or I was ready, I'd have at least a couple of choices.  As I've mentioned before, if I can just drink some antifreeze, then that could spur me to jump off a nearby bridge or hang myself.  And once I started drinking antifreeze, I could "treat" myself.  I could, for the first time since 2002, allow myself to purchase non-vegan (vegetarian) foods: like Reese's peanut butter cups, my favorite candy.  I could also allow myself to drink again, which would add to the depression, and, quite possibly speed up the suicidal process, because I'm sure that life is shit and not worth living.   
 

Buuny, 1 Hawk, 0

That isn't a typo.  I took a picture of a hawk eating a bunny.  I presume the hawk killed the bunny.  However, because the bunny is dead, he or she will suffer no more.  Only the living suffer.  What sort of life did she have anyway?  Hopping around, eating grass, hanging out, and sleeping?
Although I just saw an interesting documentary last night called Love Thy Nature.  Once again, the benefits of a natural, whole foods, plant-based (vegan) diet were extolled.  That's a goal of mine: to eat no processed foods.  Sugar is the great Satan.  I'm so lazy, though.  It's so easy to open a bag of chips.  I have to at least try it, though.  It could work as a natural antidepressant.  Wouldn't have to cook or wash pots and pans either.  This film also suggested that we're happier when we're outside: not on a busy street in a city, but in nature.  I had suspected that.  Since I finished my book, which there hasn't been any interest in yet, that is here: https://www.amazon.com/Farts-Literature-featuring-Bald-D-Bag-ebook/dp/B074MCFPVD/ref=sr_1_2?s=digita I've got more time to spend outside, so I think I'll do that. 
Another missing part of the happiness equation for me is friends; I have none.  Though I feel like all the world's animals are my friends.  It is my goal, at work, to pet at least one dog a day, and, most of the time, I'm able to do that.  The best thing, by far, about my job is that dogs are allowed to be there.  Coworkers have also brought in a cat and a ferret. 
I am alone.  Yesterday, I went to a library that's fairly far away.  I went for a walk along the Erie Canal.  There was some sort of an event going on.  There were a lot of people around, and a band was playing loud music.  I didn't know that would be happening.  If I had, I might have avoided it.  All those people, socializing with their friends and family members, made me feel extra lonely.

No Reason To Exist

No Reason To Exist (Kreator song)

Growing up like any other child
Like millions of others before
A statistic living exactly
By the norm
Don't need to think about
Future now
It's already decided for you
You have all you need
So don't ask for more

Existing like the rest
In endless emptiness
Manipulated slaves
From the womb until the grave
You never had a chance
They put you in a trance
Against your will
No reason to exist
Life is controlled
No way to resist
No reason to exist
There has to be a reason to exist

Year by year and day by day
You feel the need to escape
You realize that you're
Not the same
But you're too uncertain
To make a step
Away from their false truth
But remember how fast you
Lose the years of youth

The only way to fight the system
Is to keep and to say your mind
Only now you can draw conclusions
Young enough to see the light
Only you can know what's right for you
Only you can know what you should do
Find the courage to make your own way
Follow it and don't waste your life away

Do you really believe you were put in this corpse to obey?
Don't let them rule, don't let them take your life away
Don't waste your life, don't be a slave

No reason to exist
Life is controlled
No way to resist
No reason to exist
There has to be a reason to exist

Ready to Die

I really am ready to die.  Notorious B.I.G. released an album called Ready to Die, and, before long, he was dead.  So, perhaps by titling this likewise, I have sealed my fate.  Death seems to be better than life.  It's easier.  That's what I believe.  There's no pain in death: no suffering.  They just sleep all the time, which sounds great to me. 
I've noticed a pattern.  I get up.  I take a shit and wipe my ass, which makes me hate life.  I hear my shitty neighbors, and, as a result, I hate life.  More shitting and wiping, which makes me hate life even more.  I go to work, which makes me hate life over and over again every time.  Driving makes me hate life too; it's so stressful.  All sorts of shitty things make me hate life.  I suppose I just hate life.
I've mentioned guzzling antifreeze here before.  Before one does anything life that, one should know what the consequences will be.  I Googled that a little, and it seems like a horrible way to die.  My point about that is, if I drink some of it, then, in my mind at least, I'll be fucked, and so I might as well jump or hang, because I've damaged myself (perhaps irrevocably) with the antifreeze (Or should one refer to it as "coolant" if one sips it in the summer?).  

Always Bet on Violence

sweet, little, vulnerable groundhog

There are so many things I could be, should be, doing.  But a hawk's cries reminded me that I have wanted to write this for a while now.  A bunch of small birds were chasing a beautiful hawk.  I've seen this sort of thing plenty of times.  The first time I saw it, it didn't make much sense to me.  Why would a small bird chase a much larger one?  Why would the larger bird allow the smaller one to pursue him or her?  The answers are what they are.  I have my theories, but they're not important.  The point is violence is the way of this world.
This world has probably always been violent.  Perhaps it should be called "violence" instead of "earth."  This animal kills and eats that one, and that one kills and eats this one.  It's just the way things are.  Of course, humans have taken violence to a new level.  It's only natural that the most "evolved" species would be the most violent.  We have used our "intelligence" to make guns, biological weapons, nuclear warheads, and many other evil, deadly, and destructive weapons.  Don't have a weapon, but you want to kill and injure?  No problem.  All you need is a car or a truck, as we have seen in France, England, and, most recently, in Charlottesville, VA.  At his point, is anyone really surprised when a terrorist attack occurs?  Or a mass shooting in America?  No, this is the norm.  
Yesterday, I saw a dead turtle on a road.  I think it was a snapping turtle.  It was lying in a pool of blood.  Strangely, it had crawled away from a park, with ponds, toward a highway.  He or she was killed shortly after crawling onto the service road: sad, frustrating, and depressing.
I heard a dog barking, and I went to a window to see what was happening.  There are no pets allowed in my apt complex, but an annoying woman here has a dachshund.  She allows the dog to run around off-leash.  Then, when she's trying to find the dog, she calls out her name in an incredibly nasally voice.  It's horrible to hear.  So I went to the window, and saw, to my dismay, that the dog was barking at a groundhog.  She was very close to the groundhog.  She must have snuck up on her before she had a chance to run away.  The dog kept barking and circling the poor groundhog, who must have been scared to death.  The groundhog kept turning to face the dog.  The groundhog displayed no aggression whatsoever.  What could I do?  I yelled "Stop it!" as loud as I could at least a couple of times.  One of those times, the dog stopped barking and looked to see who said that.  I wished the groundhog would have taken the opportunity to run away from the dog, but she didn't.  Finally, the stupid woman called out the dog's name once again, which distracted the dog for real, and the groundhog made a run for it.  The dog chased her, and tried to bite her.  I don't know if the groundhog was bitten.  It's quite possible she was.  If this stupid woman had the dog on a leash, like she should, then that wouldn't have happened.  Once again, I'm in a quandary.  Do I tell the office about the woman with the dog?  What if her response would be to get rid of the dog?  That would be horrible.  I hate it when people get rid of their pets.  It can be so traumatic for the animals.  But, because of this stupid woman, this dog is free to terrorize little animals around here.  It's another no-win situation.  And that's life: a no-win situation.             
 

Farts and Literature

The cover of my book

It's official; I have written 3 books.  This latest one, Farts and Literature (featuring Bald D-Bag): an Eclectic Collection of Comedic Writing, is (probably obviously) comedic, and it is here: https://www.amazon.com/Farts-Literature-featuring-Bald-D-Bag-ebook/dp/B074MCFPVD/ref=sr_1_2?s=digita  I think it is funny.  But there's no joy, no happiness, because I'm still in a deep depression.  I hate my job.  My scumbag neighbors make sure that I hate my home life too.  I've started a new Twitter account, which is here, https://twitter.com/TheBaldDBag to promote the book.  No interest yet.  No followers.  No likes.  No retweets.  This could be it for me.  My hopes for this book are probably unrealistic.  I'd either like for it to sell so well that I can quit my job, or I'd like to get a good-paying writing job (like on a comedic TV show).  If these unlikely things don't happen, I might be ready to die.  I am anyway.  Life is just shit.  It's just getting kicked around.  I'm in a state of suffering.  I'm not having fun.  All I have to do is quit my job, go home, and start drinking antifreeze.  Then again, I suppose I should try antidepressants again, even though they are depressingly expensive.  No sense in killing myself with money in the bank.  I might as well use it to try to save myself.