Kindly...
Shut the fuck up.
Stop telling me what I should or should not be doing, and how I should or should not be doing it.
I think that's what causes my guts to churn most nowadays - the constant grating whine of people who (like to think they) have Your Best Interests in mind.
And here you all thought you'd escaped my hell-freezes-over brand of arrested-development whining!
Seriously.
Shut the fuck up.
Perhaps the most sensible thing my parents have done is to offer their two cents, step back, and allow the Grownup to make his own decisions and deal with the consequences of said decisions.
My birthday has always been 7 days after Valentine's Day, and this year I will be 33.
The accomplishments(?) of those around me are making me feel...
Worthless? (Nah)
Suicidal? (Nah)
Homicidal? Maybe.
I'm still at the same job I was at during the days when I used to update this thing with greater frequency. Somehow, it's better and much, much worse than being a caseworker ever was - a conclusion I've reached based on the sheer incompetence/arrogance/contempt management holds toward the "line staff."
In more ways than one, the environment reminds me of the Old numb_boy: passive-aggressive, perpetually bottling up anger (for what? a whine festival?), and ignoring things until they spin disastrously out of control.
Okay: perhaps I haven't KO'ed all those demons just yet.
108 pages in, and Doctor Sleep is atoning nicely for the time I wasted on the last two Dark Tower books. I'll probably regret that later.
I miss summer vacations and all the time I spent bored, feeling time move slowly - something that seems altogether foreign these days. If thoughts of ending it all infiltrate my consciousness, it's not even really about "depression" anymore; it's about time, and not having enough of it. It's about the fucking soulless data-crunch that's some sick fuck's idea of "social interaction" in our clear-plastic-bottle Dystopia of a world.
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want." (or something) - Calvin & Hobbes
Stop telling me what I should or should not be doing, and how I should or should not be doing it.
I think that's what causes my guts to churn most nowadays - the constant grating whine of people who (like to think they) have Your Best Interests in mind.
And here you all thought you'd escaped my hell-freezes-over brand of arrested-development whining!
Seriously.
Shut the fuck up.
Perhaps the most sensible thing my parents have done is to offer their two cents, step back, and allow the Grownup to make his own decisions and deal with the consequences of said decisions.
My birthday has always been 7 days after Valentine's Day, and this year I will be 33.
The accomplishments(?) of those around me are making me feel...
Worthless? (Nah)
Suicidal? (Nah)
Homicidal? Maybe.
I'm still at the same job I was at during the days when I used to update this thing with greater frequency. Somehow, it's better and much, much worse than being a caseworker ever was - a conclusion I've reached based on the sheer incompetence/arrogance/contempt management holds toward the "line staff."
In more ways than one, the environment reminds me of the Old numb_boy: passive-aggressive, perpetually bottling up anger (for what? a whine festival?), and ignoring things until they spin disastrously out of control.
Okay: perhaps I haven't KO'ed all those demons just yet.
108 pages in, and Doctor Sleep is atoning nicely for the time I wasted on the last two Dark Tower books. I'll probably regret that later.
I miss summer vacations and all the time I spent bored, feeling time move slowly - something that seems altogether foreign these days. If thoughts of ending it all infiltrate my consciousness, it's not even really about "depression" anymore; it's about time, and not having enough of it. It's about the fucking soulless data-crunch that's some sick fuck's idea of "social interaction" in our clear-plastic-bottle Dystopia of a world.
"There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want." (or something) - Calvin & Hobbes