Nonexistent Words Are Extremely Informative [Journal 7-6-17]

Rob Dougan – Furious Angels.

Well, I thought I’d respond to the current situation better than I have. I suppose my being overly optimistic is a theme of the journals – and my life in general. Now that I’ve spent days obsessing over every conceivable detail regarding the irrational roommates’ complaints, I’m just waiting on the landlord to get involved. He just texted, saying we were addressing it tomorrow. It was polite, but all the knives in my back came politely.

And that’s why I’m not handling this is well as I thought I would have. My life, before adulthood, wasn’t very fortunate. Sure, I’ve got good genes, great ones in the mental department. But, in terms of external fortune? Well, I’m physically fit, and not in the thirdworld, so that’s great. Granny was great. But in my adulthood, I just keep getting put in bad situations by bad people.

That’s the heart of my current emotional turmoil. The primary determining force of my life – Granny excluded – has been the actions of idiots. Over and over, one after the other, always by new people whom I mistakenly trusted – betrayals, manipulations, false promises, etc, etc, always in new and exciting ways. It just keeps happening. Unless I constantly maintain extremely elaborate social engineering, merely to go unnoticed, its seemingly guaranteed.

At the moment, it’s very hard to believe that I can have anything in life, without some lunatic taking it from me through the pathetically legal means of deception. I try to motivate myself into action, try to make a plan. Then I relive every betrayal, every groundless hatred, every empty-headed face of anger that’s dominated my life. My mere existence upsets people. I am a contrast to their deficiencies, and they hate me for it. And because of that, because of their weakness, I have to suffer.

Not counting the nearly nonexistent exception, the best response I can expect, is a lack of understanding that’s devoid of savage wrath – even here, on the internet, where adults males, who dress as cartoon ponies featured in entertainment for little girls, is a thriving subcultural.

Not being an idiot, I can imagine better. I can imagine a functioning world, a tolerable life – if I weren’t constantly surrounded by morons whom mistake their impulses for actionable reasoning. If I just weren’t surrounded by animals. And underneath that perception, getting stronger and stronger, is my arguable superstition.

My life is unbelievable. Despite all the clear and obvious reasons for people to do right, they do not. Because of all my efforts, all my capacities, my commitment to morality, my life is worsened. The place I’m currently renting was one of the few exceptions to that rule. Now, I may lose it – at the very least, I have to leave within a few months because I’m apparently living with a sociopath. And this happens exactly as I feel I can finally start recovering from a year’s depression, wherein I haven’t worked, so my saving are nearly gone.

I honestly don’t know if I can take this one last blow. Everything I do falls apart, because I do it correctly. How can I live with that? Why would I want to tolerate this world of savages? I don’t know if I can force tolerance through metacog, if the pattern remains. I’m trying, but I just keep getting overwhelmed by the emotions caused by my hellish life – that the idiots around me think is perfectly fine.

I can logically understand that humanity is, simply, currently savage. But they can only take so much from me, until I can’t tolerate it any longer. And then there’s that nagging superstition, that some cosmic force is fucking with me; my life is constantly ruined because I do the right thing. How else can I explain the quietly rampaging insanity around me?

In short, its very hard to focus. Hard to get my thoughts clear, look past the pain and environment seemingly designed exclusively to fuck me, so I can act. I’ll keep trying, but suicidal impulses are getting stronger and stronger. I have so little, and want so little. But I can’t have it, because the stupid animals around me need more – which they only break, or shit on.

Why did I have to be born in this era? The perfect time to see all the evidence of humanity’s savagery, without a chance of changing it. A system of law that actually defends all but the most obvious forms of savagery. I wonder how long it will take, before humanity looks back on this age in shame and disgust. Meanwhile, these stupid fucks all hate me. And other sane people are nearly nonexistent. My life horrifies me.

Journal Hub



~ by Louis Naughtic on July 6, 2017.

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