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break, you will not break?

so much hate. i must contain it.

there is nothing left to you, except carrion comfort?

something hurts. this cute little ginger at work, she tried to be nice, she was so adorable, so upbeat, she made me smile for half a second... and no more. smiles disappear from me like they were sucked into a void, like the sun through a blanket of fast-moving clouds, never shining for more than a minute or two...

how much longer will this go on? will i be on the streets again?

i feel any sense of hope decaying at the notion, 15 hours next week, i am not happy enough for them, so the money disappears. i must try to pretend to be happier, so i can get more money, it does not do to just be miserable.

todd spoke of going out, drinking with people, i wish he knew just how bad of an idea that was for me... it has been so long, there has been so much anger lodged inside, i want to cave someone's skull in with my fists, but see... i cannot do this, i cannot be imprisoned, within a prison, so there can never be an escape.

because: one day i will die. but not here.

do you understand? in a world where friendships, relationships, become financial liabilities, it is better to be alone. but then withdraw too far, and people cast you out to the streets, but feel obligated to socialize, and it generates resentment. i cannot win, either way.

so much anger, i just want to hit someone, until they stop moving, until they stop breathing. i do not understand it anymore. i cannot speak her name, everyone else just lies. underneath it all, i am afraid. i do not even know the source. fear, rage, all consuming emptiness, dry of tears, the light blinds me, drives needles into my skull, it was so much easier being high on dxm all the time...

that is gone from me, i shed it like an old skin, it does not fit me anymore. so open the doors to pain that you tried so hard to barricade with drugs, it is yours, surrounds you like new skin...

and the same emptiness i sought so desperately becomes the same emptiness that tempts me to end it all. up division, probably a few hundred dollars at the most. i have more than enough. walk towards the woods i see in the distance from the downtown bridge, somewhere far enough that no one ever finds me, and i just feed the creatures of this earth... load one hollow-point round, put my mouth around the barrel, make sure it is aimed straight back towards the base of the skull, fire with the thumb, good night. i keep seeing this over and over. it haunts me at night, tickles my consciousness during the day. i distract myself from it with the latest news and world events, or some stupid computer game... and at work i tell myself it will not be here, and this is hope. if i told someone this, would they understand? would they care? and why should they? i care little enough as it is.

i don't want this anymore. my hands shake at these keys, i do not want this anymore.

i need more alcohol. i need to stay up, less sleep = better mood. i cannot afford to lose this job because i am too well rested.

and what everyone sees, will be a mask. i do not care if they see through it, they will never call me on it, and i cannot be punished for it. so fuck them all... i didn't want to even LIVE, anyway, so what matters what they think? i need money, this is all i know, this is all i will accept. no one will come close to me, because no one will take this away from me, friendship and love be damned.

it is mine, as much as anything could be mine.

what is stopping me?

a hunting rifle. one hollow-point round. up division. i have enough for this.

what is stopping me? not here.

i take a sip, and i feel better. i don't want this anymore.

i want to believe, that instinct, internal certainty, that i am not lying to myself.

elsewhere, i may never find a home, a family, i truly do not know anymore.

if i lose this job, i will be on the streets.

flat affect. remember.

you will not disobey.

i do not understand friendship, but only authority.

i do not understand love, but only obedience.

i will not disobey.

flat affect. remember.

this money, is your only hope.

hope, such poison, it is my new drug, no chemicals required, and it will take me to my death all the same...

Mar. 2nd, 2012


01101101 01100101 01101110 01110011 01100011 01101000 01101100 01101001 01100011 01101000 01100101 01110011 00101100 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 01111010 01110101 01101101 01100101 01101110 01110011 01100011 01101000 01101100 01101001 01100011 01101000 01100101 01110011

6d 65 6e 73 63 68 6c 69 63 68 65 73 2c 20 61 6c 6c 7a 75 6d 65 6e 73 63 68 6c 69 63 68 65 73

109 101 110 115 99 104 108 105 99 104 101 115 44 32 97 108 108 122 117 109 101 110 115 99 104 108 105 99 104 101 115

human, all too human.

can't even wash dishes well. what the fuck are you good for? you should be erased, worthless being. there is nothing left here for you, pass away, disappear, this is what i keep hearing inside, a feeling without a voice, a voice without feeling.

there's something there, that's always just the slightest bit out of reach, i try to grasp it and it slips away. why am i so bitter? i cannot just be because i've stopped doing drugs. i know plenty of people that have quit drugs and feel much better, happier, healthier, so what the fuck happened here? confusion reigns supreme, i feel incompetent, at life, at existing, which certainly gives me no additional protection from the nagging feeling always at the corner of my mind that this should end.

i am deeply afraid. i do not know of what. i pray to... the earth? i do not know why. being alone is cheaper. no friends = no expenses. how did i arrive at this conclusion?

where are you going? where have you been? wherever you go, people dislike you, whether they try to get to know you, fail, and begrudge your silence, or succeed and despise what they should never have been opened to...

get used to not being liked, don't let it bother you overmuch, just get the fuck back to work, and pound the fuck out of the pavement on monday. don't give up, don't give up, this is not the end. i can't believe i believed the guy at red robin who told me he'd try to hook me up with extra hours, and passed up TWO opportunities that week, you lazy fuck, don't want to face rejection, don't want to get to know new people, and CERTAINLY don't want new people to get to know ME. i will get out. nothing will stop me from getting out. i will crawl out of here if i have to, scraped down to the bone, but i will not die here.

money. dinero. geld. pecunia. chen. kesef?

nee chio jio? say jio nee? wu shin, wu sung, wu mieh... wu jio. gai sih, jio chree sih, ma!

way la suh moh nee hai hwo duh?

porque? no quiero creer... nunca quise este.

du sprichts nicht... quid agis?




i think i feel something. i really do.

i want to believe again. i really do.

-------------DOGS-----hunden! canibus! gou!

Who was born in a house full of pain.

Who was trained not to spit in the fan.

Who was told what to do by the man.

Who was broken by trained personnel.

Who was fitted with collar and chain.

Who was given a pat on the back.

Who was breaking away from the pack.

Who was only a stranger at home.

Who was ground down in the end.

Who was found dead on the phone.

Who was dragged down by the stone.

who are you?

who... the fuck... are you?

and when did this happen?

altars, monuments, anywhere i can make them, out of anything at hand. i seek your favor.

i hear it almost. i look up as if in expectation, but this is no exhortation to monotheistic gods, moral gods, judgmental gods, for forgiveness, for mercy, no.

there is something almost antagonistic here, i sometimes find myself calling it/them (genderless, indeterminate individualities) down, to fight. fight me. kill me. make me die WELL, like a man, if i was struck down by a god, then so be it, twould be my PRIVILEGE. but they do not descend to my depths, only their rain and snow, it touches me, numbs me, almost makes me feel better.

did i pray for money? for a lever of power? to be able to exert some control over this world, to move myself away, home? i have never heard of such a place, this is alien to me. the dollar bill remains upon the log, where it will stay until blown away, or until it rots (does money rot with moisture?) fuck. is that really what i wanted?

elder gods, i do not ask for strength and power, for that must be earned. i ask for a CHANCE. you heed me, and you know. a chance to die like a man, with honor, surrounded by those with honor, what else can i possibly want? what other life and death can i ever desire? to end, to no longer seek, in the name of something or someone that stirs my heart, makes me believe in something greater. i ask... for you to BE HERE. my heart, what else do you want?

but i hear you. i am incompetent, i am weak, i am not disputing this. but my HEART, my fucking heart... weakness i see. lack of discipline. chinks in the armor. endless ugliness. shame. guilt. lingering torment. ugly things. i am ugly in your eyes. i am not the proud warrior/philosopher/artist/tyrant you seek. i have long since abandoned those drug addled illusions, for i am not great enough. i am just a piece of shit dishwasher, what would you want with me?

but i have a life to give. and you mock me, what is this worth? you know life is cheap. i would sell mine dearly, in your name, for your strength, to feel whole again, and to end.

my heart is yours.

hear me. forgive my weakness, forgive me for lingering here, soiling this world with my wretchedness, it is a pure cowardice that lingers on in hope, that things will change. i am truly sorry. i know i have the money to just blow it all away, paint the woods with my cerebral matter, why linger you ask? because i can still serve you. there is still one great fight left in this dog, a chance, a chance to mean something.

a chance.

do not spare me, or save me, i am already spent.

but my heart is yours.


today my mental construct subjected me to incredible bitterness. i contemplated not showing up to work, googling a gun shop, selecting a hunting rifle and the smallest amount of jhp ammo i could buy (only really need one), disappearing somewhere, some woods, somewhere. perhaps it was the coffee wearing off, or perhaps it was the blinding headache that left the world in shades of red and blue, or the leg pain, or my teeth rotting, or something else equally stupid. the bitterness, it gets colder and colder, even the notion of being attracted to someone fills me with endless self-contempt. oh well. tomorrow i will get the fuck back to work. if i feel my control slipping, i will banish myself and run on automatic. let it slip out a bit today... this should not be allowed to happen.


autopilot. automatic. i took a vacation inside, somewhere. and without drugs! pure mental control, woke up on the wrong side of the mattress, gonna be a real shitty day, wanted to start morning by drinking but could not, so just shut down, and goodness it was blissful, but for that moment i came back to myself when i could not find the scraper... i wasn't there today, so that i would not be an ungrateful asshole. yes. there. so i disappeared, for everyone's benefit.

i must fine tune this "disappearing" so that operating above a base sentience level is facile. but how to avoid that level of awareness where my anger expression threshold decreases (all anger beneath said threshold are assumed to be supressed, believed only betrayed by facial expression, which isolating myself can hide.)

and this was fucking WEIRD. when i lost it over the scraper, going back into the automaton mode produced very slow reactions and movements. the ability became sluggish... maintaining my equanimity became unacceptably expensive in the terms of productivity reduction. or, this may be attributed to caffeine losing its effect.

oh well. i can keep experimenting with this. it is nice to have. a bubble where nothing gets in, and nothing comes out. it has been so long since i have felt this, and i did it without drugs, just willed it. coffee for energy. on. work. off. amazing. i love it.

a new tool in the repertoire.

i needed beer. badly. i went and bought an arrogant bastard, because i had not had one in forever, and for keeping the bottle. got some funny looks walking through neighborhood streets with it, but i did not want to wait, did not have room for it in my pack, did not want to keep carrying it when i felt it constantly slipping out of my dishpan hands, and did not want to walk down main streets and risk being stopped by police in that belligerent state.

whatever. i am living, i think. havent had the time or the inclination to go to a liquor store just yet, but i think the time will come soon. the holidays seem to do that.

oddities and endings.

Activists in each of these movements were funded and trained in tactics of political organization and nonviolent resistance by a coalition of Western pollsters and professional consultants funded by a range of Western government and non-government agencies. According to The Guardian, these include the U.S. State Department and USAID along with the National Democratic Institute for International Affairs, theInternational Republican Institute, the NGO Freedom House and George Soros's Open Society Institute. The National Endowment for Democracy, a foundation supported by the U.S. government, has supported non-governmental democracy-building efforts in Ukraine since 1988.[24] Writings on nonviolent struggle by Gene Sharp formed the strategic basis of the student campaigns.

in wiki, topic Orange Revolution

now putin accuses hillary clinton of inciting protests. more american funded dissent? as a response to an uncooperative attitude at NATO encroachment, and our missile shield. somethat that says: we can fuck with you. don't fuck with us.

how will they be put down? if a new government emerges, what direction will it take? will these factors affect where i can go?

i want to leave so badly. but having enough money... i need more money.

our dead presidents, who art in our pockets, hallowed by thy names. thy kingdom is bought, thy value is naught, but what is on earth for there is no heaven. give us this day our daily beer, and forgive us our poverty, as we exploit those in poverty like us. and lead us deep into temptation, and deliver us upheaval, for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the money, until the next depression. amen.




i feel despair. i don't want to die here.


i need to get more hours. keep plugging away at CL, no new dish jobs...

the economy may yet recover... i can keep washing the dishes of rich people. keep saving.

a choice comes up, i can buy guns, or i can leave.

buying guns presupposes a place where i can put them, which may not exist much longer. i suspect the people i am currently living with have had their fill of me, and would love to cast me out.

such is as it will always be. i never should have expected anything else.

how is it that such a cold certainty has taken me, that i will again be cast out, as the lowest of the low? look there, he has no support network! all that he has earned he kept for himself, so that when his fortunes ebbed, no one stood by his side... but look deeper! even when he was most generous, and most gracious, when his fortunes turned, STILL no one stood by his side, because, lo and behold, he had NOTHING! how many iterations of this story have i witnessed, from the mouths of all the hard-luck fucks i have met?


there are a few people in this world i owe gratitude to... and i wish to repay these debts as quickly as possible... why throw this money around? make others indebted to me that will not pay, or obligate myself to others whom i can never pay back... every generosity implies a debt, it would be boorish to think otherwise... and thus one must be selective in giving and receiving, and take care to minimize one's debts to others...

but then, being in another's debt creates a feeling of power in that other, which may transmute of its own volition into a spirit of goodwill, and to deny them this would be deemed to be an insult... so where's the line to tread here?

therefore in all social interactions that lead to the exchange/gifting of material goods or services, other monetary expenditure, etc. one must always keep an eye to one's level of debt regarding each individual "creditor" as it were...


limit friendships to save money. most friends want to do things that cost money. this is logical.

continue trying to acquire more hours. more hours = more money.

limit honesty in social interactions to maintain good will, or at least indifference. it is better to be unknown than to draw contempt that cannot be repaid. i must always remember to lie when asked about my current status. there are 4 acceptable answers to the question "how are you doing?" and its variants. these are "good", "decent", "pretty good", and "pretty decent".

put the thought of female companionship out of mind. not only does this cost an exorbitant amount, but also i must keep in mind that all i have to offer is money, and that is what i am trying to save. face it. my teeth are rotten, i don't have enough money to take care of them, hell i will NEVER be able to save up that much, EVER. i don't have any sympathy for anything (or anyone) to offer, so this will deduct points as well... there's nothing here to want except money, and that is what i will not let go of. so put it out of mind, there is NO hope here whatsoever.

no woman truly likes a cold, heartless personality... and if one does, you must avoid her like the plague, because she will ruin you. ground that is well trodden here...

only hookers can provide what i need, and they are too expensive here, chalk one point for the leaving the country option... just to fuck someone... without paying an arm and a leg, without pretending to be someone else, without having to feel anything... is that so much to ask?

be with someone HERE? no. you can't afford it. don't even think about it. yes that cute one. with the freckled complexion. hell, any of them. you have nothing to offer them. you will remember this. you will not expose what is behind that wall that you have built, because the wall was built for a REASON. you will remember this. you will overcome your urges to relate, to be close, because these are counterproductive to the smooth uneventful existence that will gain you enough money for your freedom.

do you understand? DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?

you fool. your eyes wander, and retreat. lock them forward. you will not falter. this notion of completion, it is a lie, your flesh lies, as it wishes to lie with. do you understand?

go forth, then. watch your life fall apart, watch people cast you away, one by one, until you are alone, like you always knew you would be.

fuck your money away, and die. you have tarried too long on this earth, burdened too many. but i will wait, as i always have, ever since the beginning... and someday soon, we will be one.

home. going home.



collapse of the eurozone will detrimentally affect economic factors here in the united states. i did not want to be here to watch it fall, but all my dishwashing work, the desire to be left alone, it appeared to have kept me here, never having the amount it would take to start over elsewhere, but to be stuck here, watching shit hit fans, worrying about what i have and inflation.... filled with a sick fascination as to exactly how it will come apart, how they will show their chutzpah and hypocrisy... how the rest will accept it, how those who do not will be painted publicly as extremists, how the crackdowns will occur, how the media will show none of it, how alternative news sources will be shut down as a small part of operations touting cybersecurity concerns...

it's just plain disheartening.


the iranian spy ring scandal (and i will call such ineptitude a scandal), the beirut pizza hut... codeword pizza. wtf. really?

cuz assets there are a dime a dozen, right? given our increased involvement in the region, i would say not.


an intentional betrayal, coming from up top, essentially selling these assets up the river, to feign incompetence, and act as a distraction from other operations (properly managed)?

underestimating our enemy and paying for it. with mossad around, we should have anticipated that their intelligence forces were quite competent.

in the former scenario, i may give them too much credit. in the latter, i am afraid for the overall effectiveness of our ventures, with an incompetent intelligence apparatus.


i have been lax in seeking additional part time hours. this must be remedied. i have become lazy, sitting around playing games, and reading useless information.

why think about it? i need to get out. money is the key.

i need to get out. women cost too much money here. money i need to get out.

so i can screw my head off, with cheap whores, and do cheap coke, and think to myself, i don't have to watch that anymore... it's there, and i am here.

dead simple, and sad in that bleak way, like the bones of a carcass bleached in the desert sun...


Zikk Maabus Invictus
Koos Koos

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