I give up.

I’m not cut out for this.

Oct 24, 10: I figured out that suicide for me is about control.  There’s very little that I feel I can control.  I’m not in control of my feelings, my actions, my mission, my needs, my wants, or my will.  Most people exert no control over when they die — they just avoid death as best they can.  But a few people actually choose when to die… I like the sound of that.

Suicide is also about the shortest path. We’re all going to die, so it makes sense that if you have no goals (or if you’re trying to avoid doing any harm) then it’s best not to be because it saves time and effort.  I think this is why some people say it’s cowardly.  I think people who say it’s cowardly (on the surface) have to say that because they don’t see it as an option.

Occasionally, one runs across statements like, “The richest man is he who needs less than he has.”  So the truly blessed man is he who is happy to have nothing because nothing is something we can all have…

One of the most damaging statements I’ve ever heard: If you’re dead, then why would you care?

The dead have no regrets.

I’m probably not going to kill myself, but for some reason that’s the only path I can ever see.  I’m now down to questioning everything I think and do.  I can’t write anything without asking myself WHY I’m writing it.

#1 will say this is all for the drama.  So the question someone who’s going to kill himself needs to ask himself is, if the only option was to live your life or to have never existed, would you choose to have never existed?

Angels and bells and wings aside, if you’re not willing to have never existed (because, you see value in something you’ve done), then there’s always the chance you can see value in something you’re going to do,  or that you can strive to do something of value.

My problem is that what I think is of value changes so frequently.

I think trying to impress myself is bad.

I think trying to impress others is bad.

I don’t think living to accumulate power or wealth (same thing) is good.  In fact, I’ve imagined having power (literally thought I had it) and abused it… so I failed that test… power should be reserved for people more stable than I.

I don’t think living to beat others at some game is a good thing.

I don’t know what a good thing is, I think.

I’m spending too much time alone.

I don’t want to do any harm.  That I know.  I don’t want to do harm.  If I don’t want to do harm, then I’m engaged in the process of looking out for others.

Maybe I do believe in something.

Hmm.  I just reread this and above I said that suicide is an acceptable path if you’re trying to do no harm.  If I’m around, I can’t be sure that I won’t do any harm.  In fact, past history would hint that I’m quite capable of doing harm.

Revenge.   I don’t think revenge is a good reason to do anything.

It’s quite frustrating to be 42 years old, somewhat intelligent, yet totally ignorant of everything important.

If you have a source for potassium cyanide (KCN) and you don’t want to go that way because it seems too “easy” then you’re not interested in being dead — you’re interested in making a statement.

I do have this contribution to make to humanity: If you have trouble with overeating, just stock one boring food.  I’ve been eating microwave popcorn exclusively for a while now and, I can tell you, I hate microwave popcorn at the moment.   Oh wait, I made butterscotch yesterday, but that depressed me because the last time I made it was when the only thing in the apartment was sugar and butter… in 2008… just before everything was turned by me to shit.

I’m still pissed about the Army thing.  Wow.  If anyone could have benefited from following orders for a number of years, it would have been ME.  But no.  I just have to convince myself that you stopped that out of concern for someone’s (maybe my) safety…  Fuck, if you stopped that to hurt me, wow… good one.

Maybe no one called them.  There would be records of my trip(s) in police cars to the mental hospital somewhere.  They surely say something like: Picked up Joe.  Took Joe here.  Joe stayed there.

Then it would just be a matter of the Sargent claiming that someone called.  Surely, they have the right to call the local police and ask about those records… Maybe they don’t.

Ok, fine.  I don’t like blaming anyone for that fiasco, so I’m going to assume they just figured that out because, well, they’re the government.

See, I feel better already. ๐Ÿ™‚

I need a mission in life.

To be happy isn’t good enough.

To reproduce isn’t good enough.

To produce more than I consume… well, I suppose that’s a good idea, but who am I trying to impress??

To have a kidney-shaped swimming pool… not good enough.

Man, if my goal is to simply stop feeling so shitty and lost all the time, that’s also a bad thing… when suicide is on the table.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill myself.

I should delete this blog though.

Fuck, I’ve spent so many hours writing on this thing… It’s not much of an accomplishment, though… it’s a bunch of self-indulgent shit… A monument to my stupidity.

Ok, I can think of one way to commit suicide that would be cool: To disappear without a trace… no evidence of suicide, or foul play… Those who want to believe you’re dead can believe you’re dead…. I was going to write another line, but really, who cares?!?  ๐Ÿ™‚

I’m doing harm right now… I’m inside an apartment, the rent has not been paid, I’m using electricity for which I cannot pay, I’m eating microwave popcorn, paid for by TAX PAYERS… I haven’t paid taxes in a long time… I owe lots in taxes to everyone, I’m so far in debt, it will be 20 years before I would ever build any savings… I’m doomed at this point to spending my senior years below the poverty level.

The only way to dig out is to make a lot of money, which requires a continuity of effort of which I am not capable.

I am just doomed and doomed and the more time I spend on the planet the more likely I’m going to do some harm, even by accident…


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