Everyone Is Equal [Journal 1-11-17]

Ludacris – Move Bitch.

So, my emotional, mental, and physical health are improving. As stated in a recent journal post, a large portion of that improvement is due to now living alone, in a quiet and functional place [water-heater aside]. Not constantly surrounded by morons and psychos whom create chaos, and hate me for doing the opposite, I can relax and think.

The physical improvement is mostly due to stopping smoking again – which seems I have to commit to, due to it causing increasingly worrying organ pain, and overall physical lethargy. Another contributing factor is the consistently heavy physical demands of my work: I’m always on my feet, usually moving quickly and forcefully.

Still, I’m regularly feeling far more overall physical pain than I did prior to the “depression vacation” – I felt almost none, being robustly healthy despite smoking around 10 cigarettes a day. I suspect the majority of my current pain, even my body failing to keep up with the damage from smoking, is due to my underlying depression and suicidal desires – which I work against on a daily basis.

Previously [after the end of the depression vacation] lacking freedom of action due to revolting roomies [while still quite depressed aswellas stressed from work], I was always on edge at home, and thus unable to metacog. I was so constantly stressed and emotional that I couldn’t face my problems in my downtime, instead retreating into escapism through games, movies, books, etc. I still do it now, but I’m getting better. Still, I have a long way to go before I’m where I’d like to be.

Now that I can finally relax at home, can cook and eat as I wish, and generally just live as I choose rather than wasting my spare energy and thought catering to idiot roomies, I can make sense of my mind. It’s pretty fucked up, but I knew that.

I’ve made serious progress controlling the demotivating depression caused by realizing humanity is mostly.. detrimental to themselves and everything around them due to their savagery. Unfortunately, my work environment is thoroughly emblematic of aforementioned savagery, and now that I’m no longer living in isolation and comfort off of my savings, I’m being consumed by hate.

During the depression vacation, I didn’t have to interact with people, and I was still suicidally depressed at the prospect of living a life dominated by the influence of savages. But now, back in the real world, working 40 hours a week, I’m regularly surrounded by them and the expressions of their savagery.

The other cooks stand around whenever they can, while I’m constantly working. Some days, they literally stand around half of the time – just chatting, playing with their phones, flirting with servers, etc. Three-to-five of them, while I keep working. I also catch shit for flaws in the kitchen, because they’re too savage too take responsibility for their behavior. They are paid more than me.

The Chef understands that I’m better than them, but he won’t fix the problems as he’s an incompetent sycophant. I’ve never met such a concentration of worthless people in my life.. no, maybe I was just too young to be aware of my surroundings. As mentioned in the last journal entry, alot of the Spanish cooks bully the mentally-handicapped 50 year old dishwasher. The Americans are either druggies or unbelievably stupid [Blackass].

Then there’s the fucking servers. I’ve discussed them extensively throughout the blog, but basically: they do a 4th of the work I do, have no marketable skills [I don’t count being superficially polite as a skill], and get paid 2-5 times at much as me. And they’re usually in the way. When not in the way, they’re sitting down chatting. And they constantly complain about their job.

As I said, I’m surrounded by savages. The hate caused by being surrounded by these peasants, whom measurably and dramatically reduce the quality of my life, is consuming. All day long while doing my work, I impotently imagine scenarios where I set them straight, getting them to change into decent people. It’s a huge waste of mental energy however, as they’re simply too stupid/insane to understand/acknowledge they’re doing anything wrong.

I could be metacogging instead of wasting my time imaging a world filled with rational people capable of altering their behavior from a rational argument. But when I try to focus, I notice the 100th thing they’ve done wrong – just that day – which reduces the quality of my life. And I get angry again, and start passing out woof tickets in my head.

I’m learning to control said hate though. I’m stopping the unproductive trains of thought, accepting they’re worthless, accepting that humanity’s savagery is simply a permanent and inalterable impediment on my life, and focusing instead on my thoughts, emotions, and body.

When the idiots interact with me – since they lack the decency to at least leave me the fuck alone to clean up after them, or be too ashamed of themselves to approach me – I just try to be polite. Except with Chef. I bust his balls when he tries to bust mine – he tries to disguise it as shit talking, and I return the favor. Poor little bitch never comes close to winnings. *distant yet uproarious cackling*

I’m feeling a bit better about the overall social situation, however, as they’re getting it through their simple heads that I am better than them in every respect – causing them to have a shred of shame, and thus leave me alone a bit more. While that awareness usually leads savages to hate and ostracize me, they need a good man in that position so badly that they probably won’t do so. I love watching stupidity defeat itself: it makes me feel like the universe isn’t a total piece of shit.

*Ahem* Let me correct myself. That awareness usually leads males to hate and ostracize me. Since it would be a sign of irredeemable weakness to acknowledge the self as anything but omnipotent. Females usually respond with attraction, which is nice. I don’t take pride in being seen as sexually attractive, but it’s nice to be appreciated for morality and intelligence. Though many girls get pissy when you don’t flirt back with them, as if I’d fuck princess-complex having little shits.

I’m sorely tempted to date, and would do so if they weren’t servers: the amount of sociopathy required to horde that money is alarming. Oh well, it’s fun to watch stupid girls frustrate themselves. Plus, who knows, maybe one of them flirts hard, I tell them about this problem, they cut the kitchen in fairly, and I get myself a temporary girlfriend.

And while I’m playing pretend, why not just imagine meeting a sane, intelligent, and wealthy woman out of the blue, who tells me how much she wants all her holes filled? Because it wouldn’t accomplish anything, and I’ve been jerking off too much recently.

Journal Hub




~ by Louis Naughtic on January 11, 2018.

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