;

From my heart and from my hand
why don't people understand
my intention?
Weird science

I've talked about my dark nature before, or if I haven't, I've always been meaning to.

I have a lot of hurtful and angry thoughts in my head, for some reason. 

Harness them.

And they always seem to reappear at random times during the day, as if I have some mood disorder or something. I don't, but it does seem like that (not to mention that it does run in my family). The randomness is baffling; sometimes I have a near-constant rage that lasts for weeks, and other times months will go by where I'm barely like that at all.

SCION OF THE BLOOD GOD.

For the longest time, I've wondered why I hate so many things, and why I'm almost addicted to these thoughts. And then yesterday, it hit me: I'm the kind of person that thrives off of negative energy. I get some sort of high from not only the suffering of others, but also from myself.

LET THE GALAXY BURN
sorry what's happening?
Lots of emo whining and I'm turning into a Chaos Lord over here.

I don't know if that makes me a bad person by default. I don't particularly want to hurt people; I just think about it a lot. I guess being dark is really from your thoughts and emotional dynamics alone.

EMBRACE CHAOS.

I applied to two jobs today; one at Hastings and one at Winco.

Oh yeah prepare fr semicolons like a motherfucker.
None of them used properly, of course.

Not much to do recently. I am going to meet a professor to talk about philosophy, though. He works at the Christian college on main street, so that might be interesting.

Is this going to be one of those blogs where you feel all dark and edgy but it might anger God?
Also you whine about your lack of employment?
I've already read you whinging about that so I know that's coming.
Look motherfucker, Percy Bysshe Shelley (husband of Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein) has the right of it:

If he is infinitely good, what reason should we have to fear him? If he is infinitely wise, what doubts should we have concerning our future? If he knows all, why warn him of our needs and fatigue him with our prayers? If he is everywhere, why erect temples to him? If he is just, why fear that he will punish the creatures that he has filled with weaknesses? If he is inconceivable, why occupy ourselves with him? ... And if he has spoken, why is the world not convinced?

So don't think about shit plz.
I call that quote the "Catechism of the Doubtful" incidentally.
I'm sure it has a name but whatever.

I was alcohol-free the last night, as well. Although I did decide to have a cigar. I only smoke those occasionally. It was pleasant until I got about three-quarters of it down; after that, I was very agitated and stimulated. I like the calm it provides, though. I've noticed that when I get drunk, all I do is listen to music and play computer games. When I smoke, I actually listen to good music and I feel like writing. I've written while drunk before; I get mixed results from that.

That's funny even when I don't drink that's about all I do.
Weird.

 I sent some philosophy papers to a person I met at a church last Sunday. Hopefully he will like them. I currently read and write philosophy; I showed my therapist the paper I wrote yesterday and she was impressed.

Therapist has to be impressed. If she says it sucks you'll kill yourself and she goes to prison.
You need a unbiased audience.
Like me.
I just assume everything is shit until it can prove otherwise.
Oh wow here's a "what kind of Dungeons and Dragons character are you?" quiz.
The burning question in my mind. Let's see--

True Neutral Elf Sorcerer/Rogue (2nd/1st Level)


Ability Scores:
Strength- 13
Dexterity- 12
Constitution- 12
Intelligence- 15
Wisdom- 16
Charisma- 14

Or homosexual, as that's how I'm interpreting this.
Thank you for nothing.
Incidentally 12 is average in D&D and 18 is considered borderline superhuman.
14 is considered a noteworthy score.

I saw my psychiatrist today, and looked at the records from when I was in the psych ward last time. It was very interesting, and more accurate than I thought it would be. I told her that the Olanzapine was effective so we decided that I would stay on it.

CCCCCCCCRAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZYYYYY.
I woke up at 4 am today.

I think it is because I drink too much beer, but I could be wrong about that. I'm definitely going to start cutting down on that, though. I also had some Blue Stilton before I went to bed, in order to have a lucid dream.
>Psych ward
>alcoholic
>let me try lucid dreaming
no that's bound to go well.

Feeling slightly uneasy right now; I almost got T-Boned by an Asian driver today. Figures. 

As Monday can attest Asian bitches are crazy.
Run a check.

I had more than a few beers (PBR) last night to cure myself of the anxiety; it worked, but I ended up saying some crazy shit to my roommate. He eventually asked if this was the way my father talked to me, and I noticed that it was. He noted that I have a lot of unresolved issues. I don't blame him.

I'm going to stop drinking again; it doesn't work in the long term. And I'll get internet again at the apartment, too.

Literally the fifteenth time she's said "I'm going to stop drinking."
I don't think it's working.

God, fuck my life.

In the late afternoon yesterday I took a Sudafed, thinking that it would help my headache and eyes. Turns out, it didn't; it just made me all shaky, scatterbrained, paranoid and anxious.

Yeah the Sudafed is to blame.
Clearly.
This is a man, incidentally.
I was kind of thinking that but I didn't want to commit.

Well, I haven't posted in a long time.

Don't feel too bad, Dreamwidth. I don't even care about Livejournal anymore.

Looking back on my previous posts, both here and on Livejournal, I can't help but to feel like a faggot. It is totally all my fault, though.

Well--
at least you know.
I feel like this is the first time this has ever happened.
We can probably pack it up, honestly.
If there is a theme to this blog it would be "you're a faggot and it's 100% your fault."
So thanks I guess?

I feel as if I have reached nirvana.

I don't desire anything. I don't aspire to anything. I don't need anything to happen. I simply need to exist, and I am fine.

So what's with all the fucking whining?
Also that's not really the definition of Nirvana so whatever bro.

I've also been playing PSO again; very fun and nostalgic.

Hey man.
He likes Phantasy Star Online and realized he was a faggot and it's his fault.
How bad can he be?

I had a nice dinner with my brother yesterday (that he made himself) and he was telling me a lot of things about SSI that I actually agreed with. He sees SSI as being an appropriate short-term solution but that I need to do something else for the long term, and he believes that it is getting a PhD, and not writing. 

You're not meant to write and I can tell you why in the very next post.

I think that I've finally come to an answer, though. With the help of my sister, I've realized that I need to be on SSI, instead of working a standard job. I simply don't have the energy or constitution for a standard 9-to-5; I get too tired and such a job would suck the very life out of me. If I had to do it, there would be nothing left of me; no passions, no interests, essentially no life.

You have to be in the shit to be a writer.
Can't take the easy way out.
You have to get a will of iron first and then you can write.
I did it.
I went to a hood school to student teach
it fucking sucked
then I put salad on a shelf for a year and it fucking sucked
now I'm a substitute teacher. Is it good?
I can't say because my main reference point is the proverbial nightmare the last two things were.
And with all that shit even I'm not yet ready to be the greatest living author.
It takes a lot of shit, man.

I've been proofreading some more of my writing, and that is really it. Not really doing much else, don't have the mental energy or interest.

 Well with that no job to work and free money from the government I can see why you'd be taxed.
You do realize willpower is a skill you have to cultivate, right?
I didn't just get here by nature. I had to come home from my shitty internship and say "oh it's Wednesday guess I should update this mess" and I'd fucking do it because I'm hardcore.
I missed days, sure, but I updated usually.

I'm just so tired. I've tried as hard as I can, and nothing has ever worked out to the point where life is actually worth living. This just makes me so embittered. I don't even desire or need that much, and yet I'm actively denied some of the very basic things needed to be successful in life. They say that it is because I'm disabled, and perhaps I may be, but I really think it is because I'm discriminated against. But again, there is no way to prove it, and there is also no way that the SSI people are going to care about that, so if I don't get on SSI, I'm going to be fucking stuck doing shit part-time jobs for the rest of my life when I have the intelligence to do things that are far greater than that, and yet can't due to other people's bigotry.

If you're a white man you're fine.
You're keeping you down.
That's exactly why you didn't get it: "I don't need it that much."
Even if you don't and know it act like your life hinges on you doing that.
I had a job interview recently and I barely missed getting the job over someone else.
Did I want the job?
If I adopt your attitude no.
Working sucks and I'd rather play video games all day but the way forward was to get that job and I didn't get it.
I'm pissed but what can you do
BALLS OUT AND TRY AGAIN.
Unlike you I know the path to glory is treacherous and miserable at first.

I just don't understand it. Very little is wrong with me outside of having a different personality, I mean I can do the jobs just fine. But people get offended by that for some reason.

That's a problem, dipshit. Half of the game is fitting in.
Why the fuck do you think you can write if you can't even understand how these plebeians work?

If society is going to do this to me, then they deserve to have me leech off of them by being on SSI. I'm just really fucking angry right now.

Yeah you're welcome.
Asshole.

I'm working on my writing a bit more. I use 750words.com for it, and it is actually a really good tool to use. It gives you statistics and overall word count and everything. Apparently, my writing is usually past-oriented. Also when I write sex scenes, the highest rating I've ever gotten is PG-13.

Har needing tools to gauge your writing.

I'm pretty sure that I've reached that point.

I now am fully aware that I really am disabled, and that I can barely function. I don't have the focus or the energy to do the things that are necessary for me to thrive like anyone else. I wish that I did, but I do not. I have a broken brain that gets in the way of me functioning normally. Because of all this, I cannot have a full-time job and make enough money for myself. I cannot survive on my own.

I feel like a tard. An invalid. A parasite who can't hold his own. I need assistance, and that is really hard to accept, especially since very little is wrong with me intellectually. I just am sick and tired of busting my ass and really not even making it on my own in life; I know that if I don't get help, I will wear out, sooner or later.

I just want to retire, and accept myself for my flaws. The problem is that I don't know what to do with my life anymore, outside of writing. I don't know if I can achieve the important things that others can achieve. I wish that I didn't have the desire; I'm starting not to due to gradual apathy. I need to be constructive, but what can I possibly do? Maybe being on disability would be a nirvana of sorts.

I'm just in too much pain, and I want it to end. I struggle every day with the fear that I may never be able to survive in the long run; I live from paycheck to paycheck and my life is practically hanging on a thread. I need security, and I need a better life. And that is only going to come from either a full-time job or disability. It seems that only the latter is possible for me.

I just don't know how to cope.

Welcome to life, whiner.
Seriously who hasn't thought or felt this shit?
I feel this shit all the time and I'm basically a beneficent, Christ-like figure.

Yesterday, someone online called me crazy. That person wasn't the first, and probably won't be the last.

It was probably me somehow.
Oh shit it keeps happening.
Walked away for 7 hours.
Fuuuuuck.