Deus Vult [Journal 7-9-17]

The Cranberries – Kiss Me.

I live under a bridge now, bumming hobos for sustenance. Not really. The meeting was delayed til today, then I went to the shelter. I’m so sorry for keeping my captive audience waiting. No back-payment of utilities. My cut of utilities paid is now 50%, which is a little over the fair percentage I calculated, but I made it clear that I agreed with the percentage to smooth the process over – and would reassess next payment.

The stoner – the person I knew from the last house, and foolishly trusted enough to invite to live here – continued his irrational ramblings. It was quite pathetic. The landlord noticed; not merely because it was obvious, but because my consistent attempts at finding common ground and compromise were all replied to in the same, laughable ways. But I was patient with him, not stooping to his level.

When he left momentary, to fetch the other tenant, who was sleeping [I have no idea if either of them were aware of the meeting or not, though I did specifically say to the landlord that he was required to mediate.], Landlord said that Stoner seemed simply unwilling to listen to reason – I agreed. Still, Landlord didn’t point out Stoner’s inappropriate behavior to Stoner. Instead, Landlord placated, though in a manner that favored me. Better than the usual knife in the back. Counting that as a bonus is the summation of my life.

The sleeper, whom I’m certain is a moderate-grade hoarder, is very likely a low-to-moderate-grade sociopath. He’s a clever little duckling: charming, genial, and agreeable at precisely the right times, while being quite irrational with me in private. I imagine he’s been stoking the fire of Stoner’s irrationality and paranoia – that paranoia clearly informing the majority of his perspectives. The funny thing is, Sociopath and I got along very well for quite some time, and I’ve done hundreds of dollars worth of work for him – for free. But its not like that matters, when emotions are on the line.

While its no picnic sharing a house with a paranoia-case and a sociopath, I’ve dealt with worse. Hell, my mother would eat them alive; I dealt with her when I was five. I don’t think I have to worry about violence from them, even if they’re prone to irrational anger: their childish behavior seems ultimately motivated by fear of me.

Though of course, irrational anger certainly makes most people prone toward violence. And one might argue that all immoral people, and the actions they take, are driven by the inability to understand and accept their own faults – certainly a trait of irrational anger. So, violence is a possibility. But, unless they commit to a stealthy/unified murder attempt, I can probably handle whatever childish nonsense they bother me with.

If I merely continue being as fair as I always have been, while taking extra care of their emotionality, they may actually realize they’re wrong! They simply have no legitimate problems with me, which I clearly proved over and over; they merely refused to listen to reason. Simply put: they’re emotional children, whom can’t handle being treated like adults, even if that treatment is backed by respect.

I had to stop myself from laughing, when Stoner tried to get Landlord to force me, to pay for a 3rd of a living-room set, including a very large TV, that they wanted to buy – while saying that I wouldn’t be allowed to use them. How the actual fuck could anyone think that is remotely sane? Thankfully, I stifled the uproarious laughter that deserved; I wouldn’t want to hurt Stoner’s feelings.

So, as long as I keep being as reasonable as I always have been, and put on kid-gloves to handle their variety of mental issues, they get to eat crow. I assume they won’t willingly eat said crow, apologize, admit they’re wrong, and change, but instead perpetuate their self-soothing delusions. Inwhich case, their insanity deepens, and I get the last laugh. I’d prefer they merely ate crow, and all these ridiculous problems were completely avoided, but that’s humanity.

I’m somewhat excited at the prospect of watching their insanity expressed through our future interactions, as a student of the mind. I’m also somewhat thrilled by the idea of watching them become increasingly insane, when I consistently prove, through my future actions that placate their emotionality, that they’re full of shit. Petty of me, I know, but I don’t like people being rewarded for irrationality – sucks to be a responsible citizen.

But still, its a bad situation. I’ve got a stoner, who’s probably drifting toward paranoid schizophrenia, blaming me for his problems, and a likely-sociopath encouraging that behavior. How will I emotionally respond to all this, fresh off the heels of a year’s suicidal depression, that isn’t fully healed?

Will I try to get my old job back, as a means of quickly escaping these conditions? Or instead remain, vindictively thriving on the vindication granted by proving my righteousness? Will I overcome the emotional turmoil of being betrayed at a crucial time, which will dramatically diminish the quality of my life, yet again?  Will one of these lunatics move on from metaphoric back-stabbing to literal? Find out next time, on the next exciting episode of Fuck You, Humanity!

Oh right, I forgot. All this brings to mind this idiot, whom Stoner also had to deal with. Surprising that Stoner fails to notice the vast difference between myself and that idiot, and the similarities between himself and that idiot. Look at my face. This is the face of surprise. That idiot, coincidentally, was also an aggressive, delusional stoner. Its like the stereotypes of stoners are completely wrong, like everything else most people think. *whisper*rappers*whisper*

Amusingly, long-after that lunatic’s just-short-of-violent blowup, after treating him politely for months, he was foolish enough to get very close to my chef knife, in the kitchen, while I was cooking – without making his presence known beforehand. When I noticed, I very quickly and forcefully moved toward and grabbed my knife, fearing he’d finally snapped.

During the movement, I assessed his behavior, noting he had infact not snapped; he was just stupid enough to make the movement without thought. So, I smoothly pretended like nothing happened, and continued cooking. He remained in the kitchen, and finished the business that brought him there; though a more obvious stance of cowardice, I have never seen. Its the little things in life, that make tolerating humanity bearable.

Journal Hub




~ by Louis Naughtic on July 9, 2017.

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