Too Many People

As I mentioned previously, I'm working on an eBook, so I don't have much time for this, but I feel it's time I express myself again.  I've endured plenty of onslaughts at work.  As a cashier in a store, I feel as though I've had to deal with wave upon wave of zombie shoppers.  Today was certainly one of those days: just one person after another.  People lining up to buy stuff.  An endless stream of people.  I've written it before; I have no kids, but I have to deal with the result of too many people.  I have to be bombarded with them over and over again. 
Some might think I should be grateful.  Without all those customers, I wouldn't have a job.  Without all those customers, I might have chugged antifreeze or jumped or hanged myself by now.  According to my beliefs, death is a nice long slumber.  I'm not really suicidal.  It occurred to me, what if antidepressants are just good enough to keep people from killing themselves?  They're still living shitty lives that they hate; they just don't want to kill themselves as much as they used to.  It's a scary thought.  I imagine the so-called elite, the super rich, would want it that way.  They don't want the people who scrub their toilets to die, because they certainly don't want to do it.
That's part of the reason why I continue here.  If I kill myself, there will be some sort of an explanation left behind.  Maybe it will help people understand depression and suicide.
I work with someone who has autism.  Today, a customer was wearing some sort of a run to stop autism shirt.  It made me think-if you don't want your kid to get autism, then how about not bringing him or her into a world where autism exists?
Money and status aren't the most important things.  Animals are more important, and so is being someone who can truly say that they have brought neither people nor animals into this brutal world.
Pregnant women are disgusting to me.  The men who got them pregnant are equally disgusting.  I certainly don't think pregnant women deserve any special treatment.  They are bringing an innocent baby into a fucked-up, violent world of pain and despair.     

Why Am I Like This?

I haven't done this in a while, because, as I wrote, I have less discipline for sitting at the computer and writing when I'm sober.  I've also been working on some comedy writing.  I've been sober since 7/31/16.  I'm also back on antidepressants: this time, Lexapro.  There have been times when I've been tempted to buy some alcohol, and I've gone through he pros and cons.  But what really seems to help is to simply remind myself that alcohol is a DEPRESSANT, and I have DEPRESSION.  The two things obviously don't go together.  Besides, it just wasn't working.  I was miserable.  I wasn't so miserable when I was drinking, but I was afterward.  In my experience, there's a price to pay for "enjoying" alcohol.
My philosophies haven't changed.  I'm not as miserable as I was when I was drinking and not on Lexapro, but I'm not happy as a clam either.  It's very hard to live among people that are living in ways I don't identify with. 
I still think it's cruel to bring people or animals into this world, which is why I haven't done so.  I turn on the TV, I go out, I go to work, and I see tons of people with kids.  I watched the news tonight.  So many kids are suffering in Syria.  Their parents brought them into a brutal world.
I'm still a vegan.  People are so thoughtlessly cruel.  I was eating lunch at work and so was a coworker.  He had gone out to get fast food.  He was eating a burger, and he said, to me, with a smile, "Everything is better with bacon."  To him, that was funny.  To me, it was not.  I did not laugh.  Animals face such an uphill battle against these selfish, uncaring, leather-wearing meat eaters.
I'm still an atheist.  I think it's stupid to believe in god.  Only children and the mentally disabled have good excuses to believe in god.
I still have no tattoos.  It's beyond me why someone would pay somebody to mutilate their bodies.
I still don't have a smartphone.  I'm so sick and tired of seeing people that are transfixed by their fucking phones.
Since I've been at my job, several customers have complained about my coworkers.  One of them even tried to get me fired.  They've complained to me about my coworkers.  They've made "customer complaints" (his words), and they've bitched and moaned about my coworkers: trying to get them in trouble, perhaps fired.  How shitty.  You weren't treated like the Queen of fucking England, and now you want someone to be unemployed as a result?  Fuck you.  I listen to their shit, but I never rat on my coworkers.   
 

Angel and Devil

I sort of feel as though I have an angel and a devil on my shoulders, which many of us have seen on TV and in the movies.  I'm trying to quit drinking, but I'm faltering.  It's difficult.  I've been sober for 8 days now.  When it comes to a list of pros and cons, not drinking slaughters drinking.  Drinking led to me being arrested for the first time, which was not a pleasant experience.  Alcohol is a depressant.  People with depression, like me, shouldn't drink it.  I've done stupid things while drunk.  I've gotten bruised.  I've lost my phone.  There are plenty of reasons to not drink.  However, there are some items on the "pros" list.  Drinking gives me more endurance to sit at the computer and write.  There is a long history of writers who drink.  I've definitely been writing less during this week of sobriety.  Drinking is also sort of fun, however, it does not make me happy.  I'm sure of that. 
I have the day off tomorrow.  If I'm smart, I'll go to a local mental health center and make an appointment to get some help, because my depression and OCD have gone untreated for a while now.  If I'm stupid, I wont go.  Instead, I'll go to the liquor store, which I believe are evil places, no matter how many times I've visited one.  Alcohol was the reason why I didn't get help the last time I sought it.  I talked to a counselor who asked me about drinking; I told her about it, and she recommended treatment for it.  As a result, I stopped seeing her after one visit.  I chose alcohol over getting help for my mental health issues, which, obviously, isn't smart.  That's been the most annoying thing about getting help; they want you to stop drinking.
I can't help wondering if it isn't just better to end up like Bon Scott, Jimi Hendrix, or Amy Winehouse, who, I found out it a documentary, apparently found sobriety to be boring.  Drink till you die.  What is there to live for?  Pain?  Shit?  Misery?     

Good Worker

A good worker gets to work on time.
A good worker doesn't call in sick too often.
A good worker takes a lot of shit without giving it back.
A good worker endures depressing, soul-crushing boredom.
A good worker does what he "should" do as opposed to what he wants to do.
A good worker lives a miserable life just to keep a roof over his head.
A good worker is a sucker.
Opinions vary, but I'm a good worker, and I'm sick and tired of being one.
By the way, it could easily be argued that Sick of It All is the best, realest band name ever.  I've been sick of it all for quite a while now.  I'm so miserable at this job, and I'm worried it will be that way with any other job I might be able to snag.

Arrested

I used to be able to say that I've never been arrested: not any more.  I am a memoirist, so, for now, I'm thinking I'll save the full story for another one of my seldom-read eBooks.  Suffice it to say that I'm at the lowest point in my life so far, and that's saying something. 
I've been dealing with the aftermath: court appearances, appointments with lawyers, and asking my job to let me go to these things.  I have a long road of pain-in-the-ass shit ahead.
Also, this has been a very shitty weekend as far as my asshole neighbor fucking with me goes. 
I'm thinking I don't care about my life anymore.  Because of the depression I have, I've thought that the further I slide to the bottom, the better.  I'd rather be dead than alive.  I'm only alive because I'm a coward: too scared to commit suicide.  Life is a nightmare.  It really is.  And when I read stuff written by intelligent people, they back me up on this.  It really is insane that people procreate they way they do and continue this cycle of misery, pain, and suffering.  But I'm just repeating myself. 
Fuck life in society on this planet.  Life is shit (in society) on this planet.  I'd throw it all away and be homeless in the wilderness if I wasn't addicted to toilet paper and showers.  Fuck you society, for getting me addicted to toilet paper and showers: the only good things you came up with.

Independence Day: a Shitty Day for Animals

I was planning to title this post "Fireworks Should Be Seen: Not Heard," but I changed my mind.  Not being a child, or immature, I don't like fireworks.  I don't like the noise they make.  I heard a lot of loud noise from fireworks yesterday.  There, obviously, will be more tonight, and, in my experience, in the days, weeks, or months to come. 
But, for me, it's just an annoyance.  The sound of fireworks terrifies animals.  There is no doubt that fireworks have been used to injure, torture, and kill animals. 
Then there's the issue of barbeques.  Meat eaters are cavemen and cavewomen anyway, but the summer months are when they show who they really are.  They roast the flesh of murdered animals over an open flame: just like their Neanderthal ancestors probably did.  
Also, this is the day that they hold the famous hot-dog-eating contest on Coney Island, NY.  I heard about it on the radio today as I was driving around after buying vegan food.  It's considered to be so funny.  Those who think it's funny obviously don't give any thought to the animals who suffered before and during their murders to provide that meat.  The winner, if memory serves, ate 70 hot dogs.  I wonder if he (or she) intentionally vomited all that tortured animal flesh after the contest was over.  It seems quite possible.
Today, as I went for a walk, I walked through a park.  A woman was allowing a little girl to constantly chase ducks.  As I walked by, I said, to the woman, "They're not toys for her to play with, you know."  She looked at me.  I kept walking.  I looked back.  It seemed as though she wasn't chasing them anymore. 
Days ago, I saw a woman leave her dog in a (probably) hot car with the windows rolled all the way up.  I had just shopped after a full day of work, so I didn't' want to deal with this stupid bitch, but I did anyway  I followed her into the store.  I was thinking that I needed to keep track of the time the dog was in that car.  She came out again shortly after.  To my amazement, she left the dog in there again with the windows all the way up before heading back toward the store.
"Don't you think you should leave the windows open?" I asked her.
"I'm only going to be a few minutes," she replied.
"But it's hot," I said.  It's true.  It wasn't crazy hot out, but it was in my car.
"I would if I was going to be longer, and the windows are tinted," she replied.
The conversation wasn't going anywhere, so I gave up.  The more I argued with her, the more time that dog would have to spend in the car.  WHY WOUDLN'T YOU OPEN THE WINDOWS ON A HOT DAY FOR YOUR DOG, YOU STUPID BITCH?!
I think I'll be more aggressive in the future.  The thought of an animal dying, while trapped in a hot car, is horrible.  "Open your windows, or I'll smash them!" comes to mind.
  

Father's Day

Another bullshit holiday.  The only fathers who should be honored are good adoptive fathers.  Good adoptive parents (who only adopt and don't procreate) are heroes.  Biological parents are selfish misery spreaders.
This one is dedicated to all the people who don't have fathers: like me.  I've written it here before, but it's Father's Day here in the states, so cut me some slack.  I'm the result of a teen pregnancy, which led to a shotgun wedding.  My father left when I was 2 years old.  I saw him occasionally over the years, but I haven't seen or heard from him since I was a teen.  He is the typical deadbeat dad.  He doesn't care about me, and my mother had to take him to court at least once to get him to pay child support.  He is, as far as I'm concerned, trash. 
Today, I was watching a movie called Antonia's Line.  There was a character in it that reminded me of me.  He said things like, "The best thing is to never have been born.  The second best thing is to die."  He said other things like that.  Like me, he believed that to live on this planet is to suffer.  If memory serves, this film won the Oscar for best foreign film.  I think it goes to show that people appreciate reality in their entertainment. 
As far as the world we live in is concerned, the other day, a coworker told me that one of our fellow employees shot himself on the way to work.  He killed himself.  I didn't really know him.  I can't picture who he was.  I Googled him: but to no avail.  All I know is that he is free from pain.  Meanwhile, my foot pain is severe, and I must stand fulltime for my job.
So many fathers have been little or nothing more than sperm donors that I think we should abolish this bullshit holiday.  People like me don't need to be reminded that plenty of people have been lucky enough to have decent fathers.  I see it everyday at work: fathers with sons that are older than I was when he stopped going to stores with me (if he ever did).   

Vicious Circle

"I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up," a typical adult thinks.  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
The baby is born, grows up, and thinks, "I'm miserable.  I'm suffering the pain and disappointment of getting older.  I'm gonna have a baby to cheer me up."  But the "cheering up" doesn't last.
This is how we get to a world of violence, pain, and misery that contains over 7.5 billion people.  How many of them are miserable, disappointed, depressed, in pain, and wishing they had never been born?

Fakebook and Shitter

Two very popular social networking websites, that shall remain nameless here, I'll refer to as Fakebook and Shitter.  I'll admit that, on Fakebook, I have quite a few fake friends.  They're not real friends.  I don't really know them.  And I'm not the only one: not by far.  So tons of people have fake friends.  Why do I have fake friends when I claim to be so real?  I only joined Fakebook and Shitter to promote my writing.  It hasn't worked out so well.  It's no surprise, though.  The average person would rather stare at their phone than a book.
Technology has gone too far.  It's got people staring at their phones like zombies.  I'd rather look at a beautiful sky than the screen of a smartphone.  Who can get the most "likes?"  What a pathetic culture; what a pathetic society.  We're going down the tubes with this shit.  And, of course, if we do, the animals will be much better off without us.  What do they need us for?  Beatings, torture, and murders?  I don't think so.  Long after we're gone, the rain will make grass, plants, veggies, fruits, and trees grow (if we haven't completely destroyed Earth by then).  Even "man's best friend" has been devastated by humans: the price to pay for trusting evil, violent people.
Which segues into the shitty things I've had to hear at work.  A guy (I refuse to call him a man.) was buying rat traps.  "My neighbors keep feeding chipmunks, and I keep killing them," he said to me.  So confident he was in his cruelty.  Surely most people are chipmunk haters, is perhaps what he was thinking when he said that to me.  What did I say?  I either said, "oh," or I said nothing.  I'm not completely sure.  I'm trying to survive.  I need this job to do that.  I have contemplated being homeless in the wilderness and have concluded that I can't live without the resources needed to wipe and wash my ass (the OCD).  I have officially filed for bankruptcy.  There is no relying on credit anymore.
Another guy was buying quite a bit of charcoal.  He told me that he cooks a whole pig.  Again, he said it with such confidence.  What person, after all, would care about a pig?  ME!  I have cuddled with, and petted, pigs.  They, along with every other animal, deserve to be treated well.
I don't know how I make it through the day.  My pain, physical and emotional, is enormous every single day.  I was watching a good movie.  It was about spies.  This man said to a room full of them, "If you're caught, just prick your skin with this pin we've given you.  Death will be instantaneous."  I was very jealous.  I wanted one of those pins.