Better Off Dead

I've contemplated my situation and realized I'm better off dead.  My life is a bad deal.  I get up and take a shit and wipe my ass, which I hate doing passionately.  I have to do this at least a few times everyday.  I also hate having to piss, which I have to do more than several times a day.  Afterward, my penis always leaks piss into my underwear; every single day is disgusting.  It's guaranteed. 
I've mentioned the pain I'm in; it's chronic, and it hurts.
I hate my job; it's very repetitive and boring; it's a soul squasher.  All I've had are menial jobs.  That's where I'm stuck.  When I've tried to get a better one, they have said, "no."  They say America is a free country, but not if you have to work.  You're a slave to the money you need to live in a society that's not worth living in anyway.
I hate people.  There are a small amount of coworkers I get along with, but they eat meat, which means they unnecessarily support animal cruelty. 
I have no friends, girlfriend, or pets.  I love dogs, but the question of whether to get a pet or not is a complicated one, and I have ultimately decided against getting one.  One of the most important reason is I need to be free to kill myself.  If I have a pet I can't do that, because, as far as I'm concerned, when you make a commitment to a pet, it's for his or her entire life. 
My shitty neighbors ruin my home life, so there's no escape from the shit, the misery.  As I'm writing this, I'm keeping an eye on the clock, because, as soon as I can, I'm going to have to attempt to do my laundry again.  There's too much fucking competition for the goddamn laundry machines here.  I'm way overdue when it comes to laundry.  I go there, and the machines are inevitably taken.    
I've considered living in the wilderness, but how can I go without showers and toilet paper?  I'm addicted to living in this sick society.  Besides, bugs ruin the wilderness.
Death, as I see it, is an end to pain.