Not one for the myspace crowd.
This would definitely be a suicide note, but unfortunately for the world I love Gwen Stefani and my dog and my little sister too much to follow through with anything. I’m not writing this to get attention or sympathy, I’m just trying to sort out what’s been making me so fucking frustrated for such a long time. If you choose to read it, please be warned that it’s a hodgepodge of thoughts that I can’t make sense out of at all. I thought maybe writing them down would help, but I still can’t convey anything I’m trying to say.
The past few days of my life have been some of the absolute worst I can remember. Yesterday especially, I came to the blatant realization that it’s not some far fetched underlying problem that has been bugging me throughout my entire life, it’s just honestly that I hate people. Please don’t laugh because it couldn’t be truer. I can’t fathom the selfishness that feeds into society as its very basis. I’m not saying I’m not selfish, don’t get me wrong, but that for as long as anyone can remember, human beings have been conditioned to, at all costs, no matter how many people they leave dead and bloody and dying along the way (seriously, Zoolander wasn’t that stupid) pursue their ‘dreams.’ What a fucking copout. Very few people have real ‘dreams.’ No one wants to become a singer because they love being onstage, they love the paychecks and the adoration. It sounds so generic, and no I’m not realizing this for the first time. The first and foremost thing that I hate is how money absolutely rules the world. And I don’t care what anyone says, money can DEFINITELY buy happiness. I can guarantee you that if someone handed me a check to pay my basic living expenses for the rest of my life, so I could just spend my time as I please, there would be no reason for me to even write this. I wish everyone on this planet could have the money to have the freedom to do whatever they wanted. But economically and socially, that’s not possible. Money might not buy you happiness but it buys you freedom, that’s for damn sure. Rich assholes can literally piss their days away however they want to. I think that’s part of my problem most recently. I don’t want to go to school because I don’t want to waste my time trying to get into some career path. I don’t want a career at all. I don’t want to work. There is NOTHING I like doing enough to concede to having obligations regarding it, if that makes sense. Whatever my job ends up being, I’ll still have to go to it, and there will always be something I’d rather be doing when I’m working. Unless it’s sleeping, I promise.
And believe me I really hate sitting in my air conditioned (if someone would turn it on actually) basement, with tons of food in my fridge that I could eat, but I choose not to because I don’t like it, complaining about money when there are probably hundreds of children starving on another continent while I write this. I definitely realize I’m lucky to have what I do, but it’s hard to count your blessings when everyone around you was ‘blessed’ 20 times more. Which brings me to a few more points.
I hate religion too. I’m not saying I hate God, and I know I’m going to probably lose some friends over this (assuming anyone even gets this far into reading this), but the concept of a higher power is so FUCKING self righteous when you actually stop to think about it. Christianity is supposed to be about helping people, but the church will only give its money to missions in Africa after their new pipe organ is installed. Why the FUCK does it matter? It’s totally unfair to pick and choose who the rules apply to, and who God watches over. You can take the approach that bad things have to happen in order to make you appreciate the good, but then the pockets of wealth and poverty across the world are inexplicable. And love obviously doesn’t exist. There’s this one song that plays at my work about every 7 minutes, and one of the lyrics is “For every Joe, there’s a Joan.” Well maybe in America there is, but those little baby girls in China strapped to highchairs for their entire lives don’t have soulmates. How can kids here be taught to pray to God for more when other people don’t have two pennies to rub together? It just doesn’t make any sense to me whatsoever, and I bet it doesn’t to anybody else either, especially after reading this idiocy.
I just fucking despise society and what we’re taught to believe in. They just ripped up all the pansies at West County mall, which makes me cry all by itself, to plant something else. Why in the hell does it matter what kind of fucking flowers there are in front of the god damned mall? Because if there were just dirt clods in front of it no one would shop there. Instead of Westfield sending the thousands of dollars to stop the PROBLEM in Darfur, they have to plant orchids or something to attract people and their Cadillacs. I just wish I could call a huge press conference and explain to people that whether or not there are flowers in front of the mall won’t affect the shirt you buy there, or the door handles being made out of wood instead of silver at a restaurant won’t make your veal taste any blander.
Oh God, don’t even get me fucking started. Because I’m not the one that walked right into it and you asked me to write this debauchery. The way that people treat the earth to me is absolutely DISGUSTING. I am a contributor, I’m well aware. But working where I work for the past year and seeing just how much SHIT we go through, like toilet paper and lightbulbs, only makes me realize how much of a waste everything is. Like when I have to run water to soak silverware in it that just came out of the dishwasher, just so it sparkles and shines. Where does the probable gallon of water a week that I use go? Down the drain. People were DYING just a few years ago in Indonesia because they didn’t have any fresh water to drink. They had survived one of the biggest natural disasters on record, seen everyone die around them that they care about, clinging to tree limbs for days to get out of the water, only to die because they had none to drink. And everyone at my restaurant kept polishing their silverware without even a second thought. Except me. I’m just as bad as everyone else, if not worse, because I realize what I’m doing to the world and not doing a thing about it. I WANT TO HELP BUT I CAN’T. I don’t have the financial resources or social clout to get anything done or anyone to listen to me. No wonder I don’t want to bring children into this world, there won’t be one for them to live in before I pass my prime. Right now I just feel like a literal waste of space, so why create more.
My life is obviously going nowhere, and very fast. But I have to be thankful that I have all of my arms and legs and working eyes and ears (I can’t thank anyone for the way those things are shaped though, that’s for damn sure) and I’m not one of those kids in a hut in Africa. I am so lucky that the reason I have a potbelly is because I’ve had too much to eat instead of not enough. But what makes my life any more valuable than someone who is going to die tonight of a preventable disease or starvation? Nothing. I really am going nowhere. I wish I could die for some noble cause, or take one for the team somehow. Just like Holden Caulfield said, “Anyway, I'm sort of glad they've got the atomic bomb invented. If there's ever another war, I'm going to sit right the hell on top of it. I'll volunteer for it, I swear to God I will.”
And God. War. Seriously. Who really thinks that killing people gets anyone anywhere. And warfare itself disgusts me, how we completely disregard the environment and blow everything apart, every tree, cow, dog, cat and rat just to piss one person off. Gross. I can’t even write anymore, seriously.
“I think you’re going to achieve great things Jill. You just look like you would. You’re a good person.” Is what Olivia just said to me for no apparent reason. I fucking love her so much but I can’t tell her that I’ve already let her down. Whatever I’m done. I only feel about one percent better anyway.
The past few days of my life have been some of the absolute worst I can remember. Yesterday especially, I came to the blatant realization that it’s not some far fetched underlying problem that has been bugging me throughout my entire life, it’s just honestly that I hate people. Please don’t laugh because it couldn’t be truer. I can’t fathom the selfishness that feeds into society as its very basis. I’m not saying I’m not selfish, don’t get me wrong, but that for as long as anyone can remember, human beings have been conditioned to, at all costs, no matter how many people they leave dead and bloody and dying along the way (seriously, Zoolander wasn’t that stupid) pursue their ‘dreams.’ What a fucking copout. Very few people have real ‘dreams.’ No one wants to become a singer because they love being onstage, they love the paychecks and the adoration. It sounds so generic, and no I’m not realizing this for the first time. The first and foremost thing that I hate is how money absolutely rules the world. And I don’t care what anyone says, money can DEFINITELY buy happiness. I can guarantee you that if someone handed me a check to pay my basic living expenses for the rest of my life, so I could just spend my time as I please, there would be no reason for me to even write this. I wish everyone on this planet could have the money to have the freedom to do whatever they wanted. But economically and socially, that’s not possible. Money might not buy you happiness but it buys you freedom, that’s for damn sure. Rich assholes can literally piss their days away however they want to. I think that’s part of my problem most recently. I don’t want to go to school because I don’t want to waste my time trying to get into some career path. I don’t want a career at all. I don’t want to work. There is NOTHING I like doing enough to concede to having obligations regarding it, if that makes sense. Whatever my job ends up being, I’ll still have to go to it, and there will always be something I’d rather be doing when I’m working. Unless it’s sleeping, I promise.
And believe me I really hate sitting in my air conditioned (if someone would turn it on actually) basement, with tons of food in my fridge that I could eat, but I choose not to because I don’t like it, complaining about money when there are probably hundreds of children starving on another continent while I write this. I definitely realize I’m lucky to have what I do, but it’s hard to count your blessings when everyone around you was ‘blessed’ 20 times more. Which brings me to a few more points.
I hate religion too. I’m not saying I hate God, and I know I’m going to probably lose some friends over this (assuming anyone even gets this far into reading this), but the concept of a higher power is so FUCKING self righteous when you actually stop to think about it. Christianity is supposed to be about helping people, but the church will only give its money to missions in Africa after their new pipe organ is installed. Why the FUCK does it matter? It’s totally unfair to pick and choose who the rules apply to, and who God watches over. You can take the approach that bad things have to happen in order to make you appreciate the good, but then the pockets of wealth and poverty across the world are inexplicable. And love obviously doesn’t exist. There’s this one song that plays at my work about every 7 minutes, and one of the lyrics is “For every Joe, there’s a Joan.” Well maybe in America there is, but those little baby girls in China strapped to highchairs for their entire lives don’t have soulmates. How can kids here be taught to pray to God for more when other people don’t have two pennies to rub together? It just doesn’t make any sense to me whatsoever, and I bet it doesn’t to anybody else either, especially after reading this idiocy.
I just fucking despise society and what we’re taught to believe in. They just ripped up all the pansies at West County mall, which makes me cry all by itself, to plant something else. Why in the hell does it matter what kind of fucking flowers there are in front of the god damned mall? Because if there were just dirt clods in front of it no one would shop there. Instead of Westfield sending the thousands of dollars to stop the PROBLEM in Darfur, they have to plant orchids or something to attract people and their Cadillacs. I just wish I could call a huge press conference and explain to people that whether or not there are flowers in front of the mall won’t affect the shirt you buy there, or the door handles being made out of wood instead of silver at a restaurant won’t make your veal taste any blander.
Oh God, don’t even get me fucking started. Because I’m not the one that walked right into it and you asked me to write this debauchery. The way that people treat the earth to me is absolutely DISGUSTING. I am a contributor, I’m well aware. But working where I work for the past year and seeing just how much SHIT we go through, like toilet paper and lightbulbs, only makes me realize how much of a waste everything is. Like when I have to run water to soak silverware in it that just came out of the dishwasher, just so it sparkles and shines. Where does the probable gallon of water a week that I use go? Down the drain. People were DYING just a few years ago in Indonesia because they didn’t have any fresh water to drink. They had survived one of the biggest natural disasters on record, seen everyone die around them that they care about, clinging to tree limbs for days to get out of the water, only to die because they had none to drink. And everyone at my restaurant kept polishing their silverware without even a second thought. Except me. I’m just as bad as everyone else, if not worse, because I realize what I’m doing to the world and not doing a thing about it. I WANT TO HELP BUT I CAN’T. I don’t have the financial resources or social clout to get anything done or anyone to listen to me. No wonder I don’t want to bring children into this world, there won’t be one for them to live in before I pass my prime. Right now I just feel like a literal waste of space, so why create more.
My life is obviously going nowhere, and very fast. But I have to be thankful that I have all of my arms and legs and working eyes and ears (I can’t thank anyone for the way those things are shaped though, that’s for damn sure) and I’m not one of those kids in a hut in Africa. I am so lucky that the reason I have a potbelly is because I’ve had too much to eat instead of not enough. But what makes my life any more valuable than someone who is going to die tonight of a preventable disease or starvation? Nothing. I really am going nowhere. I wish I could die for some noble cause, or take one for the team somehow. Just like Holden Caulfield said, “Anyway, I'm sort of glad they've got the atomic bomb invented. If there's ever another war, I'm going to sit right the hell on top of it. I'll volunteer for it, I swear to God I will.”
And God. War. Seriously. Who really thinks that killing people gets anyone anywhere. And warfare itself disgusts me, how we completely disregard the environment and blow everything apart, every tree, cow, dog, cat and rat just to piss one person off. Gross. I can’t even write anymore, seriously.
“I think you’re going to achieve great things Jill. You just look like you would. You’re a good person.” Is what Olivia just said to me for no apparent reason. I fucking love her so much but I can’t tell her that I’ve already let her down. Whatever I’m done. I only feel about one percent better anyway.