RayoSinSol
I can’t ignore the abyss. It is real.
- Mar 26, 2020
- 108
I got a job. A good paying job, actually. It's better than anything I've been paid before in the past. I just don't know if I will stay long.
I can't keep a job to save my life. Literally.
People. Stress. Existential thoughts about the nature of our world and the limitations of human life...they all get under my skin too easily. I can't escape the vortex of my own mind. I am not like most people who can handle this world so miraculously well.
Maybe I'm defective in some way. Maybe this world is defective, and, unfortunately, I am a canary in the coal mine - one that no one will ever hear or listen to. Whatever the case is, I have no idea where to search for answers anymore, and I'm just too dumb and too tired, at this point, to do so, anyway.
In summary, that is the reason I want to end myself. I don't think I belong in American 21st century work culture.
I can't be excited about life if I can't imagine myself growing and flourishing. You can't grow and flourish personally if you can't continuously acquire money. You can't continuously acquire money if you're too mentally fucked up to even socialize normally. You're mentally fucked up, if you're me.
"Yes, me. Hi hello, it's me! The mentally fucked up person." In every room I enter, I'm sure that I make it very clear how screwed up I am with just my body language. I can't hide it, no matter how much I try, people can spot my social deviation and mental differences from miles away. I'm repulsive.
Work culture around the world is either worse than work culture here, is just like American work culture, or is ever-increasingly influenced by American work culture, so...fit the puzzle pieces together. There's really no good escape other than deeper into the system or deeper into the crushing pressure of its margins.
I'm working to fund my suicide. If I quit before I make enough to fund a Nitrogen inhalation exit, I will have to look into the legality of crowdfunding it, or learn about the dark web real quick.
I'm sure there are plenty of pro-choice people who would be willing to help, if I just knew how to allow them to help legally.
I'm sure there are also plenty of vampires out there who would get arms-erect over the though of funding my death, if I just knew where to search for that sort of thing, and how to do so without getting phished.
I'm not entirely sure how to navigate the dark web, but there are probably ways to find my end there, right?
Anyway, I don't know how to be a good work team member while I'm dealing with all these feelings: grief, sadness, regret, fear, anger. But, I can't stop until I have the final solution to all of that, for myself. Doesn't matter what people think of me, say to me, or about me at this point because they're just perceiving a slowly-wasting person. I just have to block everything out and focus on my work. Thank god it's a warehouse job so I don't have to smile at people ALL day.
My parents made a mistake when they created me, like two clueless little kids spilling a bottle of juice at playtime. That's all they are right under the skin, anyway: two clueless big children.
And now it's my job to clean the children's mess up. The longer I wait, the more my partner will continue to get attached to me, like a bug trapped in a puddle of sticky, old juice.
I just want to make enough to have a clear set of options before me. Either I will give in to the temptation of hope, or I will keep accelerating towards having enough money to buy a tent, nitrogen exit supplies, and maybe some shit to knock me out and remove my survival instinct during the process.
I just want to lie on a warm beach in the summer and take my last breaths hearing the ocean waves, somewhere far away from where anyone I know can be traumatized by finding my body.
I'm sorry this post is such a ramble. I don't really have anyone to talk to about this decision in real life, without hurting them. I'm kind of just screaming into the internet void. Doesn't really matter if anyone cares at this point.
I can't keep a job to save my life. Literally.
People. Stress. Existential thoughts about the nature of our world and the limitations of human life...they all get under my skin too easily. I can't escape the vortex of my own mind. I am not like most people who can handle this world so miraculously well.
Maybe I'm defective in some way. Maybe this world is defective, and, unfortunately, I am a canary in the coal mine - one that no one will ever hear or listen to. Whatever the case is, I have no idea where to search for answers anymore, and I'm just too dumb and too tired, at this point, to do so, anyway.
In summary, that is the reason I want to end myself. I don't think I belong in American 21st century work culture.
I can't be excited about life if I can't imagine myself growing and flourishing. You can't grow and flourish personally if you can't continuously acquire money. You can't continuously acquire money if you're too mentally fucked up to even socialize normally. You're mentally fucked up, if you're me.
"Yes, me. Hi hello, it's me! The mentally fucked up person." In every room I enter, I'm sure that I make it very clear how screwed up I am with just my body language. I can't hide it, no matter how much I try, people can spot my social deviation and mental differences from miles away. I'm repulsive.
Work culture around the world is either worse than work culture here, is just like American work culture, or is ever-increasingly influenced by American work culture, so...fit the puzzle pieces together. There's really no good escape other than deeper into the system or deeper into the crushing pressure of its margins.
I'm working to fund my suicide. If I quit before I make enough to fund a Nitrogen inhalation exit, I will have to look into the legality of crowdfunding it, or learn about the dark web real quick.
I'm sure there are plenty of pro-choice people who would be willing to help, if I just knew how to allow them to help legally.
I'm sure there are also plenty of vampires out there who would get arms-erect over the though of funding my death, if I just knew where to search for that sort of thing, and how to do so without getting phished.
I'm not entirely sure how to navigate the dark web, but there are probably ways to find my end there, right?
Anyway, I don't know how to be a good work team member while I'm dealing with all these feelings: grief, sadness, regret, fear, anger. But, I can't stop until I have the final solution to all of that, for myself. Doesn't matter what people think of me, say to me, or about me at this point because they're just perceiving a slowly-wasting person. I just have to block everything out and focus on my work. Thank god it's a warehouse job so I don't have to smile at people ALL day.
My parents made a mistake when they created me, like two clueless little kids spilling a bottle of juice at playtime. That's all they are right under the skin, anyway: two clueless big children.
And now it's my job to clean the children's mess up. The longer I wait, the more my partner will continue to get attached to me, like a bug trapped in a puddle of sticky, old juice.
I just want to make enough to have a clear set of options before me. Either I will give in to the temptation of hope, or I will keep accelerating towards having enough money to buy a tent, nitrogen exit supplies, and maybe some shit to knock me out and remove my survival instinct during the process.
I just want to lie on a warm beach in the summer and take my last breaths hearing the ocean waves, somewhere far away from where anyone I know can be traumatized by finding my body.
I'm sorry this post is such a ramble. I don't really have anyone to talk to about this decision in real life, without hurting them. I'm kind of just screaming into the internet void. Doesn't really matter if anyone cares at this point.
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