Wednesday, June 18, 2014

i've decided to wait.

if i only have a few months left, i don't want to waste it chasing around doctors.
i went back to the clinic to get a second rec and they suggested i go to a "crisis center" at the hospital. i'm debating it, and leaning towards doing it now rather than waiting for the decision and doing it then.

i don't know what the right diagnosis is either, but i'm certain that it's abundantly clear to any person that can analyze evidence that i'm not capable of or interested in participating in society, and anybody denying that clear and obvious truth must have a political motive in front of him.

bluntly: if you actually think i'm capable of properly functioning in this world, you're either stupid or ignorant of the facts.

i'm sick of struggling. if the system doesn't make the right decision, people are going to get hurt.

a life spent working is a life that is not worth living.

if this happens (and i'm hoping things are worked out, but, if odsp throws me off, i will almost certainly choose to end my life or do something that will place me in a jail cell for a long time), you need to think of it in terms of me ending my suffering. it will be for the best.

one day, people will look back at the barbarity of market societies and canonize those who resisted. hopefully, through suicide, as an act of defiance, i can provide inspiration for future generations.
well, that went terribly. and, all the peace and stability and happiness i've been feeling over the last few months just went up in a smoke of rage and anger and hopelessness.

some ideas floating through my mind.

1) show up at the psychiatrist's office with a butcher knife and saw my foot off in front of him. manipulating you? want me to prove otherwise, you producerist piece of fucking shit? how about we get your license taken away? ruining your career would give me more pleasure than my foot does. fucker. die. die. die.

2) taking baseball bats to the odsp building and just hanging out outside until the cops show up, and then admit it. when they release me, do it again. then again. and again. and again....

the bottom line that these fuckers have to come to is this: they can either sign my disability papers, or they can watch me kill myself and/or put me in jail, because i'm not participating in this society. it's a threat, but it's not an empty one. i'm at the end. there's no compromising. no trying to fit in. i'm on the fucking terrorists' side. this society needs to be incinerated. i'd rather bomb a walmart than work in one. and i'd rather read in a jail cell in peace than be forced to participate in the market.