You Got What You Deserved (Smartphone Edition)

You're walking while your face is firmly in your smartphone.  You're not watching where you're going.  Apparently, it's the rest of the world's responsibility to get out of your way.  You step into the street.  A truck squashes your body as though it was a bug.  You got what you deserved.
You're walking on a sidewalk, and your face is in your smartphone.  You don't realize that you're walking straight toward a particularly violent ex-con, who's having a difficult time acclimating to his new-found freedom and longs for the simplicity of prison life.  Since he doesn't mind being incarcerated again, he punches your face viciously just before you were going to bump into him, which is only the beginning of the brutal beating you will suffer at his hands.  You got what you deserved. 
You're surfing the web while you're driving on a highway.  You get into a nasty accident, which is 100% your fault.  The other driver in the accident is severely injured, so he sues your ass.  Your injuries are worse than his, though, and you will never walk again.  You got what you deserved. 

Too Much Information

from "Too Much Information" (The Police song)-
"Too much information running through my brain
Too much information driving me insane
Overkill
Overview
Over my dead body
Over me
Over you
Over everybody"

They weren't just whistling Dixie.  That song was released in 1981; they were clearly ahead of their time with those lyrics.  Now, of course, we have the Internet, and this situation has gotten exponentially worse.  Want to know if you should take a certain pharmaceutical (for instance)?  Google it.  You could probably find over a million people that are in favor of it and over a million people who are against it. 
Once again, I'm condemning society.  There are so many, too many, things we have to do in this society: make resumes, apply for work, change jobs, fill out forms, do taxes, make decisions about healthcare, register your car, get it inspected, make decisions about repairs, make decisions about where to live, pay rent/mortgage, pay bills, etc.  This list could go on and on.  There are tons of things to do, remember, and worry/obsess about.  That's not a formula for happiness.  If we are not in the moment, if we are always thinking about what we need to do next, then we will have issues with being happy, content, and well.  Therefore, society gets in the way of happiness and wellness. 
I've seen several documentaries about prison life.  There are a lot of people who prefer living in prison to living outside of it, which speaks volumes about how shitty life in our "free" society is.  They've been there and gotten used to it.  There is no shortage of structure and order in prison.  There aren't many options or choices to make.  What they are going to do, and when they are going to do it, is mostly dictated to the inmates.  They get out, and they often are overwhelmed by all the choices, and decisions to make, that the "outside world" has to offer.  They prefer the simpler way of living.  They are probably onto something.  When it comes to life, simpler probably is better.    

Human Punching Bag

 
My "friend" has kicked me out of his house twice and attempted to kick me out of his car once (It wasn't moving at the time.).
At work, customers have fucked with me.
My neighbor hates me and tries to bother me  He is full of anger towards me.
I'm not happy at home, at work, or out with my "friend."
Only the threat of incarceration, homelessness, and injury keeps me from lashing out against my tormentors.
This is life.
Life is shit.

One Foot in the Grave

 
Living life with one foot in the grave is complicated.  I think about suicide every day.  When you think you might be committing suicide in the near future, it can make it difficult to plan ahead.  Why should I do this or that thing I don't want to do if I'm gong to kill myself soon?  Why should I clean if I don't want to (and I never want to)?  Why should I apply to a job that I don't really want?  Why should I take shit from someone?  Why not let them have it (verbally, not physically)?  Because I might not have the balls to kill myself.  It's harder than it may seem.  Although, you can change that.  There recently was a double murder suicide fairly close to the city where I live.  This guy killed his ex-girlfriend and her current boyfriend with a knife.  Then he killed himself with the knife.  Suicide by knife is not how I would do it, but the thought of going to prison for the rest of his life probably made it easier for him to do it.
Living with a foot in the grave affects what I post on this blog.  Should I hold on to stuff, because I might be able to publish it in the future for money?  Some publishers aren't interested in anything that's been published previously elsewhere: even on a little blog like this one.  Should I not hold back and post everything, because my living days are numbered?
I hope this blog will help people understand what it's like to have depression.  It's brutal.  It's hard to put into words how miserable I am.  Life feels like a prison, and death seems like freedom.  Some would consider all this talk about suicide, coming from someone who's alive, to be bullshit.  However, I have attempted suicide, which means I'm in a high-risk group to eventually complete the act  Years ago, I bought a how-to-commit-suicide book, which mentioned the various methods: how successful they are, how much pain is involved, etc.  If I kill myself, then all this hoopla about suicide will have been validated.  And if I don't, then hopefully I've helped people understand what it's like to have depression.            

This Life Isn't for Everyone

 
In the history of the world, no person or animal has agreed to the terms of existence prior to being brought into it.  This is obvious to many.  However, it is one of the reasons why I haven't brought a person or animal into this world, and I hope I never do.
America is one of the (if not the most) freest countries in the world.  However, only the very wealthy are truly free.  The rest of us must work for a living.  This is also obvious.  But many people don't like their jobs.  Many people hate their jobs.  Not everyone can be a successful rock star, movie star, or professional athlete.  So most of us aren't really free.
Working at a job you dislike or hate isn't for everyone.  When biological parents, who aren't very wealthy, bring their sons and daughters into this world, they're forcing them to live a certain way.  Their children will have to go to school.  They will have to behave themselves.  At a certain point, they will have to enter the workforce.
A lot people can't "hack" working at a job they hate.  They try, but they just can't do it.  It's just not for them.  What happens to these people?  They become homeless.  They turn to a life of crime, and, as a result, end up dead or in prison.  And they commit suicide.  Suicide is always a leading cause of death.  In the U.S., there are more suicides than homicides.  Since 9/11, more U.S. soldiers have committed suicide than have been killed in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq.
I'm living a life of rejection.  I've been let go from lots of jobs.  I apply for jobs.  But, probably becasue I've been out of work for a long time, I remain unemployed.  I didn't ask for this life.  I did not sign up for this.  I did not give my permission to be brought into this world and deal with all the crap that one has to deal with.  When I apply for jobs, I'm competing with lots of other people for them.  This is a result of overpopulation.  I haven't contributed to the problem of overpopulation, but I must deal with the consequences regardless.
Alcohol is a demon.  I have depression.  I realize alcohol is a depressant.  Therefore, I should not drink.  I am less depressed when I don't drink.  On the other hand, I enjoy drinking.  But, once the drinking is done, the depression sets in.  These are some real problems I face:
I don't want to drink, but I don't want to be sober.
I don't want to live, but I don't want to kill myself.                     

Danny Rolling (part 2)

Danny Rolling

 I had been sort of fascinated by the serial killer Danny Rolling.  He wasn't like other serial killers.  With exceptions like Ted Bundy, they seem to target so-called "easy targets" like prostitutes.  Sadly, they are less likely to be missed, and they voluntarily put themselves into unsafe situations.  Rolling was different in that sense, because he killed 5 students at the University of Florida in Gainesville.  Pretty young college students aren't supposed to be killed by a maniac with a knife, which is what Danny Rolling was at that point.  He broke into their apartments at night, he raped them, killed them, and mutilated them.
I just finished a book about the murders called Beyond Murder.  It was a good read; I went through it pretty quickly.  I'd say I'm no longer fascinated with Danny Rolling anymore, though.  I pretty much knew most of the gory details already.  One of the things that interested me about him was his music.  During a TV show about him, they played a snippet of one of his songs: "mystery rider, what's your name?  You're a killer, a drifter gone insane."  It sounded good.  Obviously, he had some interesting things to write about.  I read, in the book, that he was talented enough of a musician and songwriter that someone wanted to record him.  But Danny Rolling never showed up for the appointment.  He had problems.  His father didn't want him, but his wife refused to get an abortion.  So his father hated him.  He beat the crap out of him.  It seems like he never loved, or even liked, him.
Danny Rolling was also depressed, as so many people are.  One of the reasons why he killed the amount of people that he did was because he did some very hard time at a plantation-type prison.  The conditions him and his fellow inmates had to endure were very harsh.  In Danny Rolling's case, it didn't work out very well.  He vowed to kill someone for each year he spent at that prison.  So maybe it's not a good idea to inflict cruel and unusual punishment on inmates; it could create monsters.  
Danny Rolling was big, 6'2", and strong.  He lifted weights.  He liked to walk around with a large knife strapped to his leg.  I have tried to imagine the terror his victims experienced at the crime scenes.  It's nothing pretty.  Rolling was a real-life horror-movie monster.
Also, today I bought some walnuts, still in the shell, for my squirrel neighbors.