Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now

The Smiths

Haven't blogged in a while.  There's at least two reasons for that.   First of all, I'm a complete mess, and, secondly, I have a job.  I got a job working for a major home-improvement chain store.  I'm still facing major credit card debt.  I might have to file for bankruptcy if I can't get a loan to pay off these credit cards.  But this job is difficult to tolerate.  To do what I'm doing, full-time, is a bit of a nightmare, but, as I and others have mentioned before, life itself is pretty much a nightmare.  I really have to tough it out to make it through the day.  To me, work has become an endurance challenge.  It's driving me crazier than I already am.

Here's a new section on the Bald Vegan!  It's called "thoughts."  I hope you like it!

I"m sure that life sucks.  Sometimes, when I'm in the midst of a deep depression, I remind myself that I can commit suicide anytime I want to, and it cheers me up a little.

I don't' believe in heaven, but I believe in hell, and this it it.  This planet has a history of violence that is staggering in its scope.

I'm jealous of the dead.

After death, even soft, healthy skin will rot.

That's thoughts for this week.  I'll end with a poem for a poet.

Who am I?
How do others see me?
How do I see myself?
What do others think of me?
Is that really me in the mirror?
Do I exist?
Will anyone miss me when I'm gone?

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. 

I'm a Mess

It's true.  I'm a mess.  I don't fit into this world.  I'm not the normal person, and I don't want to be.  The normal person gets married, brings children into this wicked world, and aspires to have the best landscaping on their block.  And, of course, they want to have more money than anyone they know.  I must be crazy, I think the life of one mouse is worth more than all the money in the world, and I stand by that sentiment.
By the way, I was sure about it, and now I'm super-sure about it.  It is cruel for people to bring people and animals into this world.  This is why.  Animals bring other animals into the world, and that's fine.  They are just following natural instincts and urges.  It's completely possible that no animal has ever made the connection between sex and procreation.  They have sex because they are driven to do so.  But humans know what life has to offer on this planet: pain, depression, suicide, bullying, sickness, disease, suffering, paralysis, loss of limbs, rape, pedophilia, war, murder, violence, incest, torture, terrorism, loss of loved ones, deterioration of mind and body due to aging, and death.  But even though we're aware of all this misery, most of us choose to bring people into the world.  I've never brought anyone into the world, and I'll never want to.  Just because it's been done to me, that doesn't make it okay for me to do it to someone else.  I suppose that's what a lot of biological parents are thinking.  "It's good enough for me, so it's good enough for you."     
I can't believe I forgot to post last week.  It was shocking for me to realize that.  I blame being a mess and drinking on that.
I survive mostly for the sake of others.  I am ready to die.  I think life sucks; it's a lot more unhappiness than happiness.  But I try to survive, because I want to help animals, many of whom are living in a hell that's much worse than mine.  I also want to convince people to not bring other people and animals into this world of pain, misery, and violence.  So I have a reason to live, but how much pain can I endure?