My last self help blogsite

Life is an abysmal pit we are cast into when we are born...no choice, no say, the particulars of this world are already decided by those who came before us. No land, or dreams, or changes to claim any longer for ourselves. We are born into the conformational dictatorship, which are the powers that be. The only hope of pleasing the carnal gods of this crudball is to die with more toys (money) than they had...but of course then its too late...your dead. But they that worshiped possession shall find you worthy, and the rest of us, well, we were just losers or mistakes, because we just never did grasp how happy money could make us. At four years old my mother killed herself. Prior to that my crib life consisted of crying all day until my sisters got home to coddle me. My mother was addicted to alcohol and drugs, and I was an imposition. Truly do I wish I had never bothered her. My father really should have kept it in his pants, as should have I. I read once that an experiment was done in the 1960's with 12 babies, 6 were touched, and coddled and cared for, the others were just fed and cared for, but not touched. A few weeks into the experiment 2 of the babies died from the group that was ignored, and the experiment was stopped. We live and die in this world without ever seeing what a face looks like that pities us. How beautiful that face must be! What a warm and fuzzy feeling that would be to have an embodiment of mercy. To present pain and receive condolence But this is not the place we are cast into. Here we have hatred. Here we remain silent of our pain and it makes us stronger. Here suffering is the teacher of life, and if you show discomfort you wear the dunce cap forever. I got to get a leg up on the world as my anguish started early, teaching me at a young age. It was a wondrous place of abuse, molestation, resentment and sorrow. I can remember the first time I heard about God and how happy I was to learn one day we get to die. I have anticipated this blissful day ever since, to see that happy face of mercy. But even God must have penitence. He offers the bliss of death, but wants to make sure that we appreciate it when he blesses us. With that comes an ever-increasing state of lamentation. Why, for example, what a fresh hell I have found in my daughter. Funny how God likes to take that which means the most to us, and use it in the ongoing lesson that life sucks. Never let it be said that God doesn't have a sense of humor. That which we thought would bring the most happiness, becomes our greatest sorrow. Sa la ve. Then one day I was old enough to begin school, oh happy day! I learned of racial prejudice and unhealthy competition. My sisters had always seemed pleased when I did a good thing, but here was the arena of favor and resentment. In this place was the weight of oppression first placed upon my head. I tried to side step it but the learned teachers had a few decades on me, and I failed. I learned all the normal stuff kids learn in school. Boys don't cry, girls don't care, and grown ups are there to inflict discipline. So I went on, praying for that promised day of death, seeking it on my own. Wondering just how much pain there is to be attained in this life, and what it really feels like to be insane. Would one know? High school was particularly cumbersome as a new burden reared its ugly head...sex! God how I wish I could have just "nipped it in the bud" (actually I tried once, and again failed) I even went to Pelotes Drugs and purchased some salt peter in an effort to stop the insanity. My weakness disgusts me. As it turns out as long as you keep it hidden, and act like a unic, nobody knows the depth of your weakness. I never dated, went to a prom, or spent much time with others as I was always on restrictions because of my grades. Six weeks a stretch of no TV, playing outside, or going anywhere; this was my high school experience for pretty much 4 years, as my grades were always bad. Use to hate getting the last report card of the year, as this usually meant restriction all summer. Finally, at 17 I ****** my folks off enough to kick me out...I just knew death was right around the corner, so in blissful abandon I forsook any concept of a future, anticipating the merciful gift of God. I'll be ****ed if he didn't just forget about me! So I took my demise into my own hands...and again I failed. Again my weakness disgusts me. My mother was a much stronger person than I was, wish I could have inherited that. Mar 31st, 2006 - 6:08 AM Boy, I really kill me. lol. I have to say, I really love this place. How close are we to aweful enlightenment here? Does anyone elses brain touch for a moment the conception of the putrid, ugly, rancid lives we live? No...I imagine not...I imagine happy, profitable little drones, scurring about their insignificant, short lives. But of course, ignorance is bliss. God forbode man to eat of the fruit that gave him knowledge, for knowledge is not always a good thing. I am either insane, or blessed of God, but I feel as I at a piece of that fruit...core and all. Recipe for anti-social, schitzode : Take one large bowl of hard shell southern Baptist learning institute. Place mentally unstable grandson of Methodist preacher inside, and beat regularly for about 5 years. Add a pinch of betrayal, couple drops of pity, and a teaspoon of condemndation. Simmer entire time over low flame, so as to not allow sedelling. Take small piece out and torture, and give to child molester to enjoy. (make sure to do this in open view of bowl)Place in the oven of society, and introduce the wonders of smoked pleasures. Allow to stew in own juices til just about ready to go under, then remove from comfortable casket, and show the world how much like fecus it looks. Then, for after dinner, and a good laugh, place entire dish on table with other properly prepared meals. Notice how the mistake will try and slide away from the rest, or make the others less perfect if placed too close. The reaction is most noticable (and entertaining) when one of the other meals is of the opposite sex. I looked at the date line for a few this evening. Then came back to reality. Can I love a person, while I hate life? Life dont suck...people do. But I grow tired, and am getting old. I miss my fiancee, passed 5 years now. whoops... sorry, temperary loss of reason there. "I hate, therefor I am", who said that?...ME, Timmy, you idiot!!! The person who drags your sorry ass out of bed in the morning. The person who doesnt give our money to drunks or rotten preachers. The person who gives us what little pleasure we have in life by consuming the wonderful gift of God, pot. The person who no longer allows others to abuse us, by being worst than them. I am the person that you fear of God to be...you May 30th, 2006 - 5:04 PM