I am not asking for an easy, stress-free life. I am not asking to be free of problems or pain. All I am asking for is a couple of months that are free of financial problems. Is that too much to ask?
All year, the bad crap just keeps piling on. It just doesn't stop! At the beginning of the year, I had no car and sixty dollars in the bank. Until I got paid last week, I had no car, AND SIXTY FUCKING DOLLARS IN THE GODDAMN BANK! It's just bad crap after bad crap! Can't I have a break for two measly months?
The last two months make me want to jump off a fucking bridge! First I get in a minor accident. There goes almost $200 to fix my friend's car. Then the car needs a $1000 brake job, and buddy asks me to pay half. What am I going to say? He's been nice enough to lend me a car FOR EIGHT MONTHS, and since I've been able to save exactly zero dollars towards a car of my own, I may have to drive it for another eight. If I tell him to get lost, then I am minus a car. So there's $500 I owe him. Super. Last week, one of my teeth exploded, and a filling popped out and ran the fuck away. So on top of everything else, I've got to get that fixed. Sure, I get some of that back from my employer's health insurance, but I have to pay up front and submit a claim. No, I didn't need those extra couple hundred bucks! Why would I need those? I'M MADE OF FUCKING MONEY! WHEN I TAKE A DUMP, INSTEAD OF POO, THERE'S GOLD BRICKS!
Everyone has unexpected expenses. Bad things happen to everyone. I understand that. I accept that I am just like everyone else, in the sense that bad stuff happens to me, just like it happens to other people. But this year, it just never ends! Every time I manage to scrape together a few hundred bucks and dream my modest little dream of a 20-year-old beat-up shit box car of my own, something inevitably happens and the money's gone. AGAIN. I am so sick of this stupid, endless stream of crap that I swear to God Almighty that if anything else happens before now and Christmas (an occasion that will reduce my bank account to a double-digit laughingstock all by itself), anything that costs me more than fifty bucks, I WILL JUMP OFF A FUCKING BRIDGE. I'm serious. I will kill myself out of sheer spite. Take my money, will you? Fine, try getting any more when I'M DEAD! Good luck with that, motherfuckers.
I am not complaining about where I am in life. I have reached the point where I have accepted my lack of ambition. I am okay with not owning a house or vacationing in Italy. I don't need to be driving a brand new BMW. All I am sick of is the string of bad luck that just doesn't stop, and that is preventing me from even owning my own car. All I want is a late 80's or early 90's beaten-up piece of junk to call my own. Is that too much to ask? I'm not asking for a lottery win. I just want two or three months of smooth sailing so I can BUY A GODDAMN CAR. I want a break from bad luck, just for a little while, but the bad luck just doesn't stop. Fuck.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Monday, October 6, 2008
Suicide
The world is going to hell, and rather quickly. It is sinking into a swamp of Islamic terrorism and fundamentalism, war, disease, disastrous climate change and capitalist greed gone berserk. I weep for the future. Perhaps it is time to abandon this sinking ship.
My own life is swirling down the toilet in an entirely different, but no less frightening and disturbing, way. Suicide looks like an excellent option. Life stinks, and I'm not sure I want to be part of it any longer.
My own life is swirling down the toilet in an entirely different, but no less frightening and disturbing, way. Suicide looks like an excellent option. Life stinks, and I'm not sure I want to be part of it any longer.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Praying For Death
I am very tired of being alive. I don't like myself, and I find being me is tiresome and pointless. I refuse to commit suicide (for various reasons we won't go into here), but I pray for cancer, heart disease, or some other incurable and terminal illness, so that I might have a socially acceptable way to die.
I am monstrous and evil, and worse, subconsciously, I want to be where I am. I make myself suffer because deep down, in the blackest pit of my dark and sinister soul, I want to suffer. I feel I deserve to suffer. There is, however, only so much suffering one can take, and I have had my fill. I am sick and tired of my custom-made hell, my self-created mental and emotional prison. I have had enough of the darkness. I have had it with being the very heart of the darkness that defines my life. I am just going to say it. I want to die.
Call it self-pity. Call it a death wish. Call it misguided anger, mental illness, stupidity or abject blindness to the wonderful possibilities of life. Call it what you will. I don't fucking care. Use whatever label you desire. All I can say is that I get down on my knees each night and pray to whatever gods may be that I don't wake up in the morning, because I am so utterly exhausted with being who I am. I don't hate life, I hate myself. I hate being me. Since I can't be anyone else, then I want to die.
May my heart explode tonight. I sincerely hope I don't live to write another post in this stupid blog nobody reads anyway. It's all so pointless and stupid.
I am monstrous and evil, and worse, subconsciously, I want to be where I am. I make myself suffer because deep down, in the blackest pit of my dark and sinister soul, I want to suffer. I feel I deserve to suffer. There is, however, only so much suffering one can take, and I have had my fill. I am sick and tired of my custom-made hell, my self-created mental and emotional prison. I have had enough of the darkness. I have had it with being the very heart of the darkness that defines my life. I am just going to say it. I want to die.
Call it self-pity. Call it a death wish. Call it misguided anger, mental illness, stupidity or abject blindness to the wonderful possibilities of life. Call it what you will. I don't fucking care. Use whatever label you desire. All I can say is that I get down on my knees each night and pray to whatever gods may be that I don't wake up in the morning, because I am so utterly exhausted with being who I am. I don't hate life, I hate myself. I hate being me. Since I can't be anyone else, then I want to die.
May my heart explode tonight. I sincerely hope I don't live to write another post in this stupid blog nobody reads anyway. It's all so pointless and stupid.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
I Am What I Am
A curious peace has fallen over me of late, in spite of my self-propelled, self-contained darkness. I cannot say I am happy, but I have come to accept myself.
I am a monster.
I am a monstrous, vile and deeply flawed human being. I am selfish and evil in the worst way. If thinking evil thoughts were a crime, I would be hanged. I have done terrible things and hurt people I love. I have crossed dark lines and committed acts so foul as to be unspeakable. I deserve to be alone in darkness forever.
And I accept that.
I am what I am. I am a hideous monster, and I accept it, and strangely, it has brought me an odd tranquility. I cannot say I am happy. But looking in the mirror no longer horrifies me. I cannot explain it, except to say that I accept what I am.
I am a monster.
I am a monstrous, vile and deeply flawed human being. I am selfish and evil in the worst way. If thinking evil thoughts were a crime, I would be hanged. I have done terrible things and hurt people I love. I have crossed dark lines and committed acts so foul as to be unspeakable. I deserve to be alone in darkness forever.
And I accept that.
I am what I am. I am a hideous monster, and I accept it, and strangely, it has brought me an odd tranquility. I cannot say I am happy. But looking in the mirror no longer horrifies me. I cannot explain it, except to say that I accept what I am.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Alone
From childhood's hour, I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow - I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone
And all I loved, I loved alone.
- Edgar Allen Poe, "Alone"
It is strangely comforting to know that Poe once felt the way I feel. He knew the darkness like few others. I know darkness, too. I am its cold, windswept, barren heart. Of course, I have a tiny fraction of his immense talent. If I could fashion the darkness around me into some kind of art, then my sorrow and loneliness and pain would serve a purpose. Instead, all I have is a blog that few will ever read. This is true loneliness. To be surrounded by people, and yet feel no connection to any of them. I suffer within a darkness that others cannot even see. The world, it seems, is coloured differently to me.
Even as I write this, I am filled with despair. My writing is so bland and uninspiring and pedestrian and stupid. I live in a darkness that I can't even adequately describe. How sad. How very sad.
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow - I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone
And all I loved, I loved alone.
- Edgar Allen Poe, "Alone"
It is strangely comforting to know that Poe once felt the way I feel. He knew the darkness like few others. I know darkness, too. I am its cold, windswept, barren heart. Of course, I have a tiny fraction of his immense talent. If I could fashion the darkness around me into some kind of art, then my sorrow and loneliness and pain would serve a purpose. Instead, all I have is a blog that few will ever read. This is true loneliness. To be surrounded by people, and yet feel no connection to any of them. I suffer within a darkness that others cannot even see. The world, it seems, is coloured differently to me.
Even as I write this, I am filled with despair. My writing is so bland and uninspiring and pedestrian and stupid. I live in a darkness that I can't even adequately describe. How sad. How very sad.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
One Common Denominator
My life is a series of spectacular failures. I was talking to my psychiatrist about all of the relationships I've had, and how they've all gone down in flames, and he said something very profound. Profound, and profoundly depressing.
"In all of your failed relationships, what is the one common denominator? It's you."
He's right. There's an old saying that once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, and four or more is evidence. When relationships keep failing and falling apart, there are only so many times I can blame luck, fate, the other person, or circumstance. When it keeps happening, it's pretty solid evidence that I am the problem.
This applies to the rest of my life. My procrastination, my inability or unwillingness to see what's really happening, my stunningly selfish desires and many other deep character flaws too tedious to list are the problem. I am the problem. I keep fucking things up in my life. I am evil. Sometimes I feel like my life is a swirling, dark whirlpool of misery, but the truth is, I am the center of that whirlpool, the heart of the darkness that surrounds me.
I imagine I could be content if I had something in my life that I didn't consistently screw up. I could put up with my tiresome, low-paying job and my loneliness if I could organize some part of my life, whether that be something creative, or just organizing fun stuff with my friends or with my daughter. Unfortunately, I can't plan shit. If I were put in charge of organizing a three-car parade, I'd find a way to fuck that up. So in addition to wasting my life doing a monkey's job, the rest of my life is a shambles, too. Motherfucker.
Days like today make me want to become a drunk. If I were an alcoholic, at least I'd have some reason for screwing up that people could immediately identify. Instead, there's no-one and nothing to blame but me. Instead of a light obscured and covered by the darkness of illness or addiction, I am the darkness itself.
"In all of your failed relationships, what is the one common denominator? It's you."
He's right. There's an old saying that once is a fluke, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern, and four or more is evidence. When relationships keep failing and falling apart, there are only so many times I can blame luck, fate, the other person, or circumstance. When it keeps happening, it's pretty solid evidence that I am the problem.
This applies to the rest of my life. My procrastination, my inability or unwillingness to see what's really happening, my stunningly selfish desires and many other deep character flaws too tedious to list are the problem. I am the problem. I keep fucking things up in my life. I am evil. Sometimes I feel like my life is a swirling, dark whirlpool of misery, but the truth is, I am the center of that whirlpool, the heart of the darkness that surrounds me.
I imagine I could be content if I had something in my life that I didn't consistently screw up. I could put up with my tiresome, low-paying job and my loneliness if I could organize some part of my life, whether that be something creative, or just organizing fun stuff with my friends or with my daughter. Unfortunately, I can't plan shit. If I were put in charge of organizing a three-car parade, I'd find a way to fuck that up. So in addition to wasting my life doing a monkey's job, the rest of my life is a shambles, too. Motherfucker.
Days like today make me want to become a drunk. If I were an alcoholic, at least I'd have some reason for screwing up that people could immediately identify. Instead, there's no-one and nothing to blame but me. Instead of a light obscured and covered by the darkness of illness or addiction, I am the darkness itself.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Like Iron To A Magnet
There are those who believe in energy fields. I know people who believe that everyone has their own energy field, and that these energy fields attract similar energy. Positive energy attracts positive energy, and negative energy does the same. Some days, I believe that.
I seem to attract more than my share of bad karma, angry, bitter or depressed people, and negativity. My dark heart gives off such a powerful, negative energy field that negativity is drawn to me like iron filings to a powerful magnet. Bad things and bad people come my way, because, deep down, I am very bad.
My darkness and negativity don't hurt just me. Like people living too close to high-tension power lines or chemical plants, the people in my life are affected by the darkness that seeps from my black heart like poison. I don't mean to hurt them, but in the end, intent means nothing. I hurt them, and even though I didn't intend to, it doesn't matter. They get hurt by my poisonous negativity just the same. I am a source of darkness in the world, and it makes me weep.
My heart is a great black hole, whose powerful and grasping gravity affects everything around me. There is darkness in my part of this world, and I am the very heart of it. I have tried to turn it around. I still struggle to reverse it, but like a great and heavy stone wheel, it has tremendous momentum. I don't know if it can ever be changed. I don't know if I can ever be a source of light and good instead of darkness and evil. I try, but sometimes, like today, it seems hopeless. I just wish that I were the only victim of the blackness that emanates from my soul. Perhaps I should live alone, far from the rest of humanity. Perhaps that is what I deserve.
I seem to attract more than my share of bad karma, angry, bitter or depressed people, and negativity. My dark heart gives off such a powerful, negative energy field that negativity is drawn to me like iron filings to a powerful magnet. Bad things and bad people come my way, because, deep down, I am very bad.
My darkness and negativity don't hurt just me. Like people living too close to high-tension power lines or chemical plants, the people in my life are affected by the darkness that seeps from my black heart like poison. I don't mean to hurt them, but in the end, intent means nothing. I hurt them, and even though I didn't intend to, it doesn't matter. They get hurt by my poisonous negativity just the same. I am a source of darkness in the world, and it makes me weep.
My heart is a great black hole, whose powerful and grasping gravity affects everything around me. There is darkness in my part of this world, and I am the very heart of it. I have tried to turn it around. I still struggle to reverse it, but like a great and heavy stone wheel, it has tremendous momentum. I don't know if it can ever be changed. I don't know if I can ever be a source of light and good instead of darkness and evil. I try, but sometimes, like today, it seems hopeless. I just wish that I were the only victim of the blackness that emanates from my soul. Perhaps I should live alone, far from the rest of humanity. Perhaps that is what I deserve.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Everyone But Me
One never gets used to being alone. It is constant in its unpleasantness.
These days, it seems like everyone but me is in a relationship. I know that's not actually true - if it were, Lavalife would be out of business - but it feels like it. I have a brilliant, well-read friend who is, to put it kindly, physically unattractive. He has less money than I do, and that's rare. He has similar trouble maintaining a relationship. And yet, he is hardly ever single. He may have two or three different girlfriends a year, but he usually has someone. I have no idea how he does it. I would be happy with a string of failed relationships, but not having one at all, for years at a time, is intensely depressing.
The last girl I dated, I dated only very briefly, before I panicked and bailed. Now I regret dumping her, because in retrospect, we were compatible in many ways. But I can never seem to see the obvious when it's right in front of my face. Only later, when she has moved on and I look back on things, do I realize I made yet another mistake.
I can't seem to win. When I'm with someone, I'm either on edge all the time (afraid they're going to dump me) or I start feeling trapped and begin compiling a list of reasons why they're not the right one for me. It has been 20 years since I felt at ease with a woman, and that one still went off the rails, thanks to my complacency. Few things ruin a good relationship like taking a special person for granted, which is what I did. But when I'm alone, I'm miserable, and all I can think is that the wrong relationship would be better than no relationship at all.
I wish I knew how to stop subconsciously ruining things for myself. I wish I could end my apparent unconscious need for things to fail. I'm so very tired of being alone. I'm so tired of being the cold, lonesome, ghostly heart of a vast emotional darkness.
These days, it seems like everyone but me is in a relationship. I know that's not actually true - if it were, Lavalife would be out of business - but it feels like it. I have a brilliant, well-read friend who is, to put it kindly, physically unattractive. He has less money than I do, and that's rare. He has similar trouble maintaining a relationship. And yet, he is hardly ever single. He may have two or three different girlfriends a year, but he usually has someone. I have no idea how he does it. I would be happy with a string of failed relationships, but not having one at all, for years at a time, is intensely depressing.
The last girl I dated, I dated only very briefly, before I panicked and bailed. Now I regret dumping her, because in retrospect, we were compatible in many ways. But I can never seem to see the obvious when it's right in front of my face. Only later, when she has moved on and I look back on things, do I realize I made yet another mistake.
I can't seem to win. When I'm with someone, I'm either on edge all the time (afraid they're going to dump me) or I start feeling trapped and begin compiling a list of reasons why they're not the right one for me. It has been 20 years since I felt at ease with a woman, and that one still went off the rails, thanks to my complacency. Few things ruin a good relationship like taking a special person for granted, which is what I did. But when I'm alone, I'm miserable, and all I can think is that the wrong relationship would be better than no relationship at all.
I wish I knew how to stop subconsciously ruining things for myself. I wish I could end my apparent unconscious need for things to fail. I'm so very tired of being alone. I'm so tired of being the cold, lonesome, ghostly heart of a vast emotional darkness.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
F.Y.M.
There's a wonderful movie called Fear Of A Black Hat. It's a Spinal Tap style mock-umentary of an imaginary rap band called NWH. If you can find it, watch it. It's hilarious. I mention it here only because one of the characters had titled his autobiography FYM. He said it stands for "Fuck Y'all Motherfuckers". So I'm borrowing it for this rant. This rant is FYM.
Fuck Y'all Motherfuckers.
This is a great big "fuck you" to everyone who thinks that I am a petulant whiner, and that I'm merely feeling sorry for myself. Fuck you. Walk a mile in my shoes, and then tell me it's easy.
People I know often mistake my angry rants and depression for unhappiness about my situation. I could give a rat's ass about my situation. I don't care about my crappy job, my car with the blown-up motor, my debts, my ex-wife, or the fact I haven't had a date in more than a year. What makes me alternately angry and morbidly depressed is that none of it is ever going to change, because the heart of all that darkness is me. I can't improve my situation, because I'm far too good at fucking everything up. I am where I am now - working a monkey's job for bum pay, divorced and scorned by my family - because I screwed everything up. Whenever I'm faced with a choice, I almost always make the wrong one. I apparently have a deep-seated subconscious need to fail, at least according to my shrink. So everyone that thinks I'm whining about my life is wrong. I'm whining about the fact that I suck, that I am the heart of the darkness I live in.
I am FUBAR, fucked up beyond all recognition. I don't even know where to begin to fix what's wrong with me. I don't do anything positive because I'm paralyzed with fear, because I can't trust my own judgement. I know deep down that whatever path I choose in life, it will be the wrong one. You want evidence? Look at my history, look at all the things I did in the past. My whole life history is the fucking evidence! Bad choice after bad choice has led me to where I am now; broke, divorced, alone, and wasting my talents cleaning cars. So fuck you, if you think I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Try being me for one fucking week, and then come to me with your bullshit about how I'm a self-indulgent whiner. Fuck off.
I don't want a better life. I want to BE SOMEONE ELSE. I could win the lottery tomorrow, and I'd be just as miserable, except in more luxurious surroundings. I could meet a wonderful woman tomorrow, but I'd find a way to fuck things up. But if I were someone else, someone a lot less messed up, I could find a way to be happy where I am, or make up some sort of plan to improve my lot. But I am trapped, trapped within myself, imprisoned in a vast darkness of which I am the heart. Take your platitudes and your easy answers and go fuck yourself. FYM.
Fuck Y'all Motherfuckers.
This is a great big "fuck you" to everyone who thinks that I am a petulant whiner, and that I'm merely feeling sorry for myself. Fuck you. Walk a mile in my shoes, and then tell me it's easy.
People I know often mistake my angry rants and depression for unhappiness about my situation. I could give a rat's ass about my situation. I don't care about my crappy job, my car with the blown-up motor, my debts, my ex-wife, or the fact I haven't had a date in more than a year. What makes me alternately angry and morbidly depressed is that none of it is ever going to change, because the heart of all that darkness is me. I can't improve my situation, because I'm far too good at fucking everything up. I am where I am now - working a monkey's job for bum pay, divorced and scorned by my family - because I screwed everything up. Whenever I'm faced with a choice, I almost always make the wrong one. I apparently have a deep-seated subconscious need to fail, at least according to my shrink. So everyone that thinks I'm whining about my life is wrong. I'm whining about the fact that I suck, that I am the heart of the darkness I live in.
I am FUBAR, fucked up beyond all recognition. I don't even know where to begin to fix what's wrong with me. I don't do anything positive because I'm paralyzed with fear, because I can't trust my own judgement. I know deep down that whatever path I choose in life, it will be the wrong one. You want evidence? Look at my history, look at all the things I did in the past. My whole life history is the fucking evidence! Bad choice after bad choice has led me to where I am now; broke, divorced, alone, and wasting my talents cleaning cars. So fuck you, if you think I'm just feeling sorry for myself. Try being me for one fucking week, and then come to me with your bullshit about how I'm a self-indulgent whiner. Fuck off.
I don't want a better life. I want to BE SOMEONE ELSE. I could win the lottery tomorrow, and I'd be just as miserable, except in more luxurious surroundings. I could meet a wonderful woman tomorrow, but I'd find a way to fuck things up. But if I were someone else, someone a lot less messed up, I could find a way to be happy where I am, or make up some sort of plan to improve my lot. But I am trapped, trapped within myself, imprisoned in a vast darkness of which I am the heart. Take your platitudes and your easy answers and go fuck yourself. FYM.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
More Evil Than I Thought
I wonder if you have ever had a moment this dark. I imagine most people have moments where they think "wow, I am messed up!". I know that a few people, like myself, know deep down that they are more screwed up than average. But have you ever had a dark, evil moment like this? Have you ever had a moment where you felt chills as a rising sense of horror crept over you, when you realized you were way more fucked up than you thought? I have.
I will not relate the details. Suffice it to say that I made a horrible decision, that I did something unspeakable. Worst of all, at the time, I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to do it anyway. Later, recalling my apalling behaviour, I was struck senseless by the sheer depth of the black pit of my soul. All I could say for hours afterwards, over and over, was "I am a monster".
I have always had a black and evil heart, but I had no idea how dark my heart is until recently. I truly am a monster, a wretched fiend so enslaved by frantic, grasping, selfish desires that I can barely stand the sight of my own reflection. All doubt has been removed, and I see the truth, the awful, hideous truth: I am evil. Evil is darkness, and I am the black hole at its center.
I am the very heart of darkness.
I will not relate the details. Suffice it to say that I made a horrible decision, that I did something unspeakable. Worst of all, at the time, I knew it was wrong, but I wanted to do it anyway. Later, recalling my apalling behaviour, I was struck senseless by the sheer depth of the black pit of my soul. All I could say for hours afterwards, over and over, was "I am a monster".
I have always had a black and evil heart, but I had no idea how dark my heart is until recently. I truly am a monster, a wretched fiend so enslaved by frantic, grasping, selfish desires that I can barely stand the sight of my own reflection. All doubt has been removed, and I see the truth, the awful, hideous truth: I am evil. Evil is darkness, and I am the black hole at its center.
I am the very heart of darkness.
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