Massive Double Standards
I suppose I need to rise up and try to make myself drowsy, by eating sunflower seeds, water, melatonin - and typing away here. But any move I make down here somehow alerts them to my existence, and they react. Unreasonably.
I didn't mention that there was no work on van today, as I was too fatigued from yesterday, plus brain, etc., probs. But, also, it was just too cold and windy, again. Some better days are coming, not sure if tomorrow.
Sometimes I bitch about people herein, dear reader, in parallel to my feeling very ill. There are a few reasons for this. For one thing, my brain and mood are just plain broken, and not exactly positive. Healthy mind, healthy body? Sicko body, sicko mind.
Another reason is that I just do not feel that, with all I have to deal with, completely alone and unaccredited, I don't deserve one fraction of the shit I get from other people. Other disabled people can get away with murder, since their issues are visible and accepted and catered to. Not mine. In fact, I actually do get attacked because of the strange way people process my claim that I am disabled.
Another reason is that, while I am trying so hard, I see a society basically throwing itself out the window. For nothing. Taking so much for granted. Hurting each other, when they could be diving for pearls. And so on. And I feel it is very, very important to record all this, for the mutant descendants who shall inherit our radioactive gasses. Everyone is so wrapped up in their personal, petty BS, which they obsess over self-importantly, they simply don't seem to realise that their problems can be solved in alternate ways. And all this petty BS is a complete waste of time and spirit.
I've been studying people all my life, so this is a natural extension of that. When I am ill, and down, then I have the time to think and type things out.
Since God is in everything,ergo everyone, I once thought, then studying people would bring better enlightenment in that regard. I missed the whole idea that the devil is apparently also in everyone. Bobby Boucher!
And, I guess it is a comfort - a consolation - a substitution for having no life or relationships. In a perfect world, neighbours would be bringing me shrimp. As it is, I am just too off guard - by their insanity - to do anything more than marvel at how far beyond sanity they strike me as being.
But, really - most importantly - I do need to figure out ways and means of the universe before it eats me alive. This is what I am. So, you have seen my understanding of people develop, and my stronger ideas take shape over time. I know that some of these ideas will be useful to someone, somewhere, somehow, someday. We will underwear.
But, also, I am pissed. Some people might say I am lashing out, indiscriminately. But, actually, I think fairly. Why fairly? Because the reality often is that, in combination with my illness, people do cause me to become more and more ill. And this is insult to injury.
Anyway, I have been somewhat ill, today, following yesterday's walking, with the added calories, it almost was as if I was was sometimes in a drunken nausea, with the COVID flu still nipping at my lobes. When I am ill, I forget many more things, I make many more mistakes, I get caught off balance, I get far less done. I got one little project done, today, re: AAA, which I hope to mail off tomorrow. Another thing I did? I accidentally knocked my terry-cloth robe off of the door coil it was hanging from, and the door-coil went, "Boinggg!"
A tiny accident. A little loud. Not too long after that, upstairs neighbour was banging and knocking away right where that had occurred, in retaliation. Can you explain that to me, without needing to clarify that my upstairs neighbour is a genetic throw-back of some sort? No, you cannot. And yet I am left, alone, having both to cope with this, and to explain it, so that future generations of me-like people will be able to sleep, one day, in peace and comfort. (Saving $100 on NC headphones, and related).
I write for seven generations. Although, it looks like we're only going to get one more, plus a handful of atrazine miscreants. And, after that, I think, just a generation of human feet.
So, the banging away by this neighbour was incommensurate to the accidental noise which, shall we say, inspired it? And way, way, not merely that: But what kind of person goes around punishing strangers for their own accidental course of being and nothingness? I will tell you. Websters defines this sort as, "shit people."
People with massive double standards who massively retaliate for things that are seomtimes only in their heads, and their heads alone. Like, crazy old bald man downstairs would attack me insanely because he might have heard a mouse. And so on. Massive attack. For why? Because we are now Israel, back in the Old Testament, and will never escape it, ever again. So, when we read the Bible, we do not read through the lines, but through the bars of a prison cell?
My cells are already in prison! I don;t need some new age freaks acting like they made some amazing new discovery that Tyranny is the answer to everything from the common cold to ring around the collar. Got a squeaky floorboard? Add a little Tyranny! Memories of past abuse starting to eat away at your computing power? A little Tyranny in there and you'll be off and running around naked again. Forget the Joy! No more Thrill! We don;t need no Mister Clean! Just give us Tyranny and give us Hell, Harry!
Give those cells more hell!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovU4ESybz-U
Massive double standards. "I deserve wonderful relationships, and a life, and all the money, and 100% insulation, and pure health, and a schedule that I alone determine, and fast food dropped right out of the sky from heaven. But YOU - since I am the wonderful one - YOU deserve all my wrath and blame and hate and retribution - even if I am your stranger - or your landlord - or your relative - or your parasite."
So, I lie here, trying to get back to sleep, realising what is happening, here. My creativity is once again being trampled upon - trod upon - stultified and still-born. What am I doing here, concerned about when my next big heart attack shall be thrust upon me, from the cowards that be, on high and bad marijuana? I am not here for any of this crap? I don;t even want to study any ore of this crap - I don;t want to wrote about politic anymore - I want to STUDY WAR NO MORE!
Just grow up and leave me alone!
Stop blaming me for the voices in your past. I am not banging on your walls because of all the decades of crap I have endured. What makes you so special and important that you must delegate yourself my overlord and monkey-keeper?! Where do these absurd double standards even come from? And then you get all the similar, yet more innocuous people, in society, who presume everyone is normal EXCEPT YOU THE VICTIM. And what, I ask you - what could be wrong in that?
I tells you, this society has gone completely out of its mind, and terrible things are due. All the horror I have seen in my own life, over the decades, compacted into a few months, and divvied out like the dole to proles in the zombie line, waiting for their RNA and cake.
Some day, you will be sicker than me, and I will simply cry all the more.
I didn't mention that there was no work on van today, as I was too fatigued from yesterday, plus brain, etc., probs. But, also, it was just too cold and windy, again. Some better days are coming, not sure if tomorrow.
Sometimes I bitch about people herein, dear reader, in parallel to my feeling very ill. There are a few reasons for this. For one thing, my brain and mood are just plain broken, and not exactly positive. Healthy mind, healthy body? Sicko body, sicko mind.
Another reason is that I just do not feel that, with all I have to deal with, completely alone and unaccredited, I don't deserve one fraction of the shit I get from other people. Other disabled people can get away with murder, since their issues are visible and accepted and catered to. Not mine. In fact, I actually do get attacked because of the strange way people process my claim that I am disabled.
Another reason is that, while I am trying so hard, I see a society basically throwing itself out the window. For nothing. Taking so much for granted. Hurting each other, when they could be diving for pearls. And so on. And I feel it is very, very important to record all this, for the mutant descendants who shall inherit our radioactive gasses. Everyone is so wrapped up in their personal, petty BS, which they obsess over self-importantly, they simply don't seem to realise that their problems can be solved in alternate ways. And all this petty BS is a complete waste of time and spirit.
I've been studying people all my life, so this is a natural extension of that. When I am ill, and down, then I have the time to think and type things out.
Since God is in everything,ergo everyone, I once thought, then studying people would bring better enlightenment in that regard. I missed the whole idea that the devil is apparently also in everyone. Bobby Boucher!
And, I guess it is a comfort - a consolation - a substitution for having no life or relationships. In a perfect world, neighbours would be bringing me shrimp. As it is, I am just too off guard - by their insanity - to do anything more than marvel at how far beyond sanity they strike me as being.
But, really - most importantly - I do need to figure out ways and means of the universe before it eats me alive. This is what I am. So, you have seen my understanding of people develop, and my stronger ideas take shape over time. I know that some of these ideas will be useful to someone, somewhere, somehow, someday. We will underwear.
But, also, I am pissed. Some people might say I am lashing out, indiscriminately. But, actually, I think fairly. Why fairly? Because the reality often is that, in combination with my illness, people do cause me to become more and more ill. And this is insult to injury.
Anyway, I have been somewhat ill, today, following yesterday's walking, with the added calories, it almost was as if I was was sometimes in a drunken nausea, with the COVID flu still nipping at my lobes. When I am ill, I forget many more things, I make many more mistakes, I get caught off balance, I get far less done. I got one little project done, today, re: AAA, which I hope to mail off tomorrow. Another thing I did? I accidentally knocked my terry-cloth robe off of the door coil it was hanging from, and the door-coil went, "Boinggg!"
A tiny accident. A little loud. Not too long after that, upstairs neighbour was banging and knocking away right where that had occurred, in retaliation. Can you explain that to me, without needing to clarify that my upstairs neighbour is a genetic throw-back of some sort? No, you cannot. And yet I am left, alone, having both to cope with this, and to explain it, so that future generations of me-like people will be able to sleep, one day, in peace and comfort. (Saving $100 on NC headphones, and related).
I write for seven generations. Although, it looks like we're only going to get one more, plus a handful of atrazine miscreants. And, after that, I think, just a generation of human feet.
So, the banging away by this neighbour was incommensurate to the accidental noise which, shall we say, inspired it? And way, way, not merely that: But what kind of person goes around punishing strangers for their own accidental course of being and nothingness? I will tell you. Websters defines this sort as, "shit people."
People with massive double standards who massively retaliate for things that are seomtimes only in their heads, and their heads alone. Like, crazy old bald man downstairs would attack me insanely because he might have heard a mouse. And so on. Massive attack. For why? Because we are now Israel, back in the Old Testament, and will never escape it, ever again. So, when we read the Bible, we do not read through the lines, but through the bars of a prison cell?
My cells are already in prison! I don;t need some new age freaks acting like they made some amazing new discovery that Tyranny is the answer to everything from the common cold to ring around the collar. Got a squeaky floorboard? Add a little Tyranny! Memories of past abuse starting to eat away at your computing power? A little Tyranny in there and you'll be off and running around naked again. Forget the Joy! No more Thrill! We don;t need no Mister Clean! Just give us Tyranny and give us Hell, Harry!
Give those cells more hell!
Click to viewhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ovU4ESybz-U
Massive double standards. "I deserve wonderful relationships, and a life, and all the money, and 100% insulation, and pure health, and a schedule that I alone determine, and fast food dropped right out of the sky from heaven. But YOU - since I am the wonderful one - YOU deserve all my wrath and blame and hate and retribution - even if I am your stranger - or your landlord - or your relative - or your parasite."
So, I lie here, trying to get back to sleep, realising what is happening, here. My creativity is once again being trampled upon - trod upon - stultified and still-born. What am I doing here, concerned about when my next big heart attack shall be thrust upon me, from the cowards that be, on high and bad marijuana? I am not here for any of this crap? I don;t even want to study any ore of this crap - I don;t want to wrote about politic anymore - I want to STUDY WAR NO MORE!
Just grow up and leave me alone!
Stop blaming me for the voices in your past. I am not banging on your walls because of all the decades of crap I have endured. What makes you so special and important that you must delegate yourself my overlord and monkey-keeper?! Where do these absurd double standards even come from? And then you get all the similar, yet more innocuous people, in society, who presume everyone is normal EXCEPT YOU THE VICTIM. And what, I ask you - what could be wrong in that?
I tells you, this society has gone completely out of its mind, and terrible things are due. All the horror I have seen in my own life, over the decades, compacted into a few months, and divvied out like the dole to proles in the zombie line, waiting for their RNA and cake.
Some day, you will be sicker than me, and I will simply cry all the more.