Dark Hope

Human matters have become more and more alien to me.

There is no purpose in this pathetic life. Why do you breathe? Why do I? I don’t have any reasons except the need to find a reason every day I draw breath. Why? I don’t know. I truly don’t.

I guess friends and family can stay the tide of self harm. But when does that cease being effective? Or when does it stop offering comfort?

This world and its people deserve to die and burn in the fires of unimaginable agony to pay for all the terrible, horrible destruction and corruption we have plagued this planet with. All my endeavors are tainted by my own humanity, my own innate disgusting human- my species.

Watching the world with tired, angry eyes as the humans scurry around me, worried about problems that I will never care about. When I am told by someone that they purchased a new car, I truly don’t care about your pathetic achievement. I took a shit today. They are on par. When I am told by someone that they love their job, I want to suffocate them with my fists, jam them down their ignorant throats and fist fuck their face until death. Why? I don’t fuckin’ know. Envy? Jealousy? Frustration? Anger? You pick. When someone gushes about a new product they’ve purchased, or an inconvenience they’ve suffered, or the dues that they no longer have to pay my only answer to them is SHUT THE FUCK UP.

That’s the answer I have for myself most days. Not today.

Ever spent some time in the burning purgatory of retail? What about customer service? If one wants to find out how petty, useless, and pathetic the human race is, enter the working world and listen to what people complain about. Are they valid? Or empty? It doesn’t matter because they will tell you if it is or not. And you must believe it. They will abuse and berate you, and you must exercise control.

I knew a greeter for Sam’s Club once. Vietnam veteran. He asked an individual for his club card as he entered one day, and the individual spit on him and said, “I don’t have to show you a fuckin’ thing.”

Because he took that abuse, he kept his job. Was it worth it? Fuck what you know. When others complain, I cannot listen. Mostly because there is too much running around in my mind and coherent thought is a luxury most days. I complain. Right now, I’m complaining. And I am just as useless as the rest because I am doing NOTHING about how I feel. I am letting myself feel miserable, and every day I recognize this means nothing. Nothing beyond self awareness. But I am functional.

I found my hatred bare one day before I adopted it into my soul. Hatred starts scared. Tiny, puny, shrinking from conflict. I took it in, sheltered it, and it became a part of me as I nurtured it with fear and watched in horror as it grew into a black, endless rage thickened by depression and despair.

In this world. This shitty, terrible fuckhole of a gaping diseased asshole we call modern society, there are people working actively to make it worse. Are you one of them? If yes, kill yourself.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t tied my own noose yet.

 

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