Damned headache
So, my interview today was a complete waste of time. Seriously, it was. After I finished up the interview I mentioned how the address I had down on the form wouldn't be applicable in a few weeks since I am moving. At this point one of the interviewers looks at me and asks where I will be moving. I reply probably over the river.
Oh, says the interviewer, well, we can only hire people who live in Cumberland County.
Fantastic. Great that I did that for nothing. I'm not surprised though. This is how life works. At least this way I can tell myself that the reason I failed was something as concrete as my place of residence, instead of the fact that I suck.
So, let's add this failure to my pile of everything else I fuck up at:
1. Fuck up all relationships. (Most girls are able to realize they want nothing to do with me in a matter of months. My record stands at one month.)
2. Fuck up a multitude of possible jobs (Japan, DC, HR Manager, now this latest).
3. Fuck up eating food (I don't even have an appetite much anymore).
Blah blah blah, etc. etc.
I spent a good chunk of work today seriously thinking about why I have yet to commit suicide. It's a legitimate question for me. I really can only think of two reasons:
1. If I tried to commit suicide I would probably fuck that up too. I would put a bullet through my head, yet survive ... Then I'd spend the rest of my life being a vegetable. This thought doesn't appeal to me.
2. I can't imagine the afterlife is really any better than this life. In fact, there is a good chance that it's worse.
I guess basically it comes down to the fact that commiting suicide is just about as pointless as living, so there is no real reason to do it.
I think really I'm just sick of things not working out or going anywhere. I put forth effort and nothing happens. And the thought of failing about ten million times before having one success doesn't appeal to me. I think the whole stepping stone theory is crap. Failures don't add up to success. Failures just pile up until you happen to have a success. I would say that the two are rarely related to each other. You can be fortunate and have success right off the bat, or you could try for all eternity and never have a damn thing go your way. There is no guarantee that life will treat you well.
I dread being trapped where I am right now ... never amounting to anything. I want to be influential, but how? I could go into politics, but I despise most politicians and the corrupt system they support. I could become a serial killer, but chances are I'd get thrown in jail before really getting anything done. I could sell myself on the street corner, but that wouldn't work well either since my legs would get tired from all that standing. And quite frankly, sucking cock doesn't appeal to me.
The reason the military seems so appealing to me right now: it combines my desire for a dramatic change with the distinct possibility that I will die, thereby releaving me of having to worry about life. Granted, in the process I would have to support a war I don't believe in and quite possibly contribute to the deaths of others. Neither of those thoughts appeal to me either.
Where does all this leave me? Most likely nowhere I imagine. Really, I just like to bitch. That's what these things are for.
Ideally, I still want to become a Kung Fu master and wander the earth aimlessly, at some point I'll achieve the ultimate union of sword and soul and the ascend to Nirvana, or some such other mystic mumbo jumbo.
Oh, says the interviewer, well, we can only hire people who live in Cumberland County.
Fantastic. Great that I did that for nothing. I'm not surprised though. This is how life works. At least this way I can tell myself that the reason I failed was something as concrete as my place of residence, instead of the fact that I suck.
So, let's add this failure to my pile of everything else I fuck up at:
1. Fuck up all relationships. (Most girls are able to realize they want nothing to do with me in a matter of months. My record stands at one month.)
2. Fuck up a multitude of possible jobs (Japan, DC, HR Manager, now this latest).
3. Fuck up eating food (I don't even have an appetite much anymore).
Blah blah blah, etc. etc.
I spent a good chunk of work today seriously thinking about why I have yet to commit suicide. It's a legitimate question for me. I really can only think of two reasons:
1. If I tried to commit suicide I would probably fuck that up too. I would put a bullet through my head, yet survive ... Then I'd spend the rest of my life being a vegetable. This thought doesn't appeal to me.
2. I can't imagine the afterlife is really any better than this life. In fact, there is a good chance that it's worse.
I guess basically it comes down to the fact that commiting suicide is just about as pointless as living, so there is no real reason to do it.
I think really I'm just sick of things not working out or going anywhere. I put forth effort and nothing happens. And the thought of failing about ten million times before having one success doesn't appeal to me. I think the whole stepping stone theory is crap. Failures don't add up to success. Failures just pile up until you happen to have a success. I would say that the two are rarely related to each other. You can be fortunate and have success right off the bat, or you could try for all eternity and never have a damn thing go your way. There is no guarantee that life will treat you well.
I dread being trapped where I am right now ... never amounting to anything. I want to be influential, but how? I could go into politics, but I despise most politicians and the corrupt system they support. I could become a serial killer, but chances are I'd get thrown in jail before really getting anything done. I could sell myself on the street corner, but that wouldn't work well either since my legs would get tired from all that standing. And quite frankly, sucking cock doesn't appeal to me.
The reason the military seems so appealing to me right now: it combines my desire for a dramatic change with the distinct possibility that I will die, thereby releaving me of having to worry about life. Granted, in the process I would have to support a war I don't believe in and quite possibly contribute to the deaths of others. Neither of those thoughts appeal to me either.
Where does all this leave me? Most likely nowhere I imagine. Really, I just like to bitch. That's what these things are for.
Ideally, I still want to become a Kung Fu master and wander the earth aimlessly, at some point I'll achieve the ultimate union of sword and soul and the ascend to Nirvana, or some such other mystic mumbo jumbo.