The Suffocating Odor of Humanity

I don’t want to be alive sometimes.

With that said, why choose such a dark phrase? Is my life really all that
bad? What drives me to feel this way other than myself? Are there
stressors, triggers, loops? Endlessly playing and relentlessly screaming. I
hate this planet. And I hate how it makes me feel.

Human interaction is one of the worst possible outcomes of any given moment during any given time. They’re crass, apathetic, disgusting, bigoted, oblivious, dull, blunt, useless. Utterly and completely useless. Those who are worthy of such labels run the gambit from friend, family to foe. In reality, there is no help from these sources. Only guidance. But the joke has yet to be revealed.

Apathy. It is a sickness bred directly into the dna of humanity through
years of shitty, terrible decision making and false, almost cruel,
humanitarianism.

Loved ones bare this apathy gene, the very unproven but very fucking godamn OBVIOUS gene that disables them from any prolonged sense of genuine help. Humans boast lies all the time. I’ve listed them in
previous entries:

“I’m here for you.” “You’re my one and only.” “I’m sorry.” “I’ll never
abandon you.” “I care about you.” Figure out the rest.

Love is real, sure! It is real and it is powerful, but it is not seated in
reality. We give gifts that are useless because we believe them to be not.
We do things for others without understanding how to, there is only the
sinking apathy that clings to me even now, whilst I write this fucking
abortion on this shit tube flying through the air.

Things said to others are thrown with clumsy haste, only to
hang there or insert like a fucking dagger into an unsuspecting heart.
Scoldings…adults telling other adults what is against the rules…spankings
like children, like the herds of children I was once assimilated into. Told
that there are always others who know better. Others who have a right to
make me feel like garbage. To take my way of life. To take my life itself.

If I reciprocated the feelings screaming inside me that have been inflicted
by my fellow man in perfect reflection I’d be destroyed like a wild animal.

I am a slave. Driven to the point of apathy, like the other greaseapes
slithering to their next pathetic and meaningless goal. I sit here not from
choice but from pity and pain, divided as always between a family that should stand up and unite. But there is no union. There is no acceptance. No apology is heard, rather considered. I go where I am told to go. I do what
I am told to do. I am struck down with un-necessary gifts and items, ones
that I am not grateful for, ones that I never even asked for. But that
doesn’t matter, does it? I’ve killed but 20 minutes pretending to care
about the next four hours of my future, but I can’t.

People work on their issues for the most part never, and this undeniable
fact of humanity causes those who exhibit effort and time, sometimes in
direct proportion to elevating the fallen, to suffer- and appear
unsuccessful. The mark of success is poor health, statin drugs, and a
shitty family dynamic. Money has nothing to do with it because money never measures success accept for when it is useful to utilize such a false and pathetic metric to subdue one’s own feelings of dissonance and
inadequacy.

Those emotionally retarded adult children throw tantrums that others who
are more able to help themselves are forced to deal with. It is obvious
when one is unwelcome, and it is obvious when someone is too weak for
reality. I have seen loved ones turn their cheer into spite as they
believed themselves to be spurned by those who have not betrayed them.

I have seen loved ones simply ignore those they care about even as their
loved one is speaking to them. I have seen loved ones make excuses for the
terrible, horrible fucked up things that the loved ones in their life do to
them. It is sad. Pathetic? No. Just sad.

Those who depend on such miseries long for those who are trying to improve.Trying to achieve better, happier, fuller lives. But motivation can carry someone a long way. Especially when the person has no will of their own and needs to destroy the hope and light in others to power their own selfish, childish, pathetic purposes.

I am suffocated by the thick odors of tight humanity- the greasy sticky
odor of processed meat, stale sweat, and bad breath. These odors are
imbedded into skin, and stained into my meat. No amount of washing will
free this odor from my corpse. It will always be there. I want to bite on
my fingers and mangle them with my teeth, forcing the odor out, forcing my body to grow back flesh that doesn’t fucking REEK of stale human stink.

People notice and support affliction when it is convenient to them. Fears,
illness, timing- they are all meaningless in the face of want. One can
express, per say, that they possess fear of a particular situation to
another. The other, sympathetic, may offer to alter said situation to
comfort a suffering individual. However. This is not an innate desire to
help speaking. No, this is convenience at its most cruel.

I have suffered situations like this many times, often at the hands of
those whom I love and trust the most. People are sympathetic to your pain
and struggles as long as it does not cost them one of two things (at
least): money or time. Those fearful now are forced to accept the reality
they thought to be safe almost immediately, and when there is resistance?
Those anxious to help offer venom and guilt to ensure their “charge” has
been properly subdued and processed for the future they have decided for
them. Like I said, these betrayals have almost exclusively happened with
loved ones in my experience, but in general, human interaction is just
awful and should be outlawed with the exception of text and email.

Why must I be invested in another human being simply because I am told I must? Why must I endure the destruction of my way of life and happiness
because what makes me able to wake up and stop the suicidal thought loop
isn’t what others think it should be?

Lies like to flood the mind, too in the heart of this ridiculous storm, one that no one should have to weather. They are meant to confuse, confound, and bury dreams and hopes.

An adult is created when the joy of life has been beaten out of them whilst
a child. Behind every successful, employed businessperson is a collection
of poisonous shattered glass. There is only misery in capitalism. Global
markets. War. There is only profitable misery in it all. There is only the
will to control others when the motive is examined.

We work until dead. We love until numb. We hate until we kill ourselves.
Why do I want to be a part of this again? To engage with other humans? Why do I want to do anything to participate in a society that has consistently forced horrific, blinding, choking anger and pain upon me? I don’t. And suicide isn’t an option that seems…intelligent at this point in my life.

Sounds like complaining. All of this crap. Every fucking word sounds like a
child screaming back at a world that knows more than it, but I can no
longer give a flying FUCK if that is the case because I refuse to believe
when others tell me they know the only way to live my life. They don’t know because they can’t live their own lives.

Help is an illusion. In the world that has been thrust upon us the very
moment our mothers squirt our little, slithering, pink malformed bodies out of her fish-rotten cunt, we are expected to accept help when it is
relentlessly given (even if unneeded, unasked, or incorrect), but in the
same breath, become completely self sufficient. Do you understand yet? If
not, start this blog entry over.

I hate humanity. I despise every second I draw breath as I watch each and
every one of you useless fucking mongoloids shit and piss all over everything you come in contact with. And the sheer fact that I must share my species with such loathsome pukes ruins me by way of a humble buttfucking that that drives my need to tie a noose.

I have seen what humanity calls help, and you better be ready to die if you
want to accept it. No one is there to help, and no one cares enough
outside of an emotional or tangible reward to spend any real time offering
aid. No, you must be the driving force for your own help and well being and
undying love because their is no one, not your mommy, or your daddy. Your wife, husband, or significant other. You teacher, your grocer, your police officer, your judge, your drug dealer, your pharmacist that GIVE. TWO. SHITS. About your well being once it is no longer convenient.

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