I am the person who will destroy China. (madman101) wrote,
I am the person who will destroy China.

On Christmas Island, they eat you if you don't believe in Santa.

So, I took care of my SS disability reevaluation.  Went to library - had to renew my card - printed out the letter - mailed it at the P.O.  Bought wine, went home, watched movie, "Bobby," finally.  Will mini-review it later.

Coming out of hangover, AND the months of CFS hell, today I have been happy and singing, getting my recyclables together, etc.  So glad to put things behind me, get on with life.  Friday, I have an eye exam.  It may take 4 months before I get glasses.  I am getting classes specifically for computer, writing and reading.  Somehow, in a year, I will somehow get Lasik surgery on my right eye.  These expenses really hamper my ability to get the heck out of Dodge, but I shall.

There is this tall black guy here, whom I believe has some Native American in him, who was one of the only blacks friendly to me, a few years ago.  I tried to set him up w/ the apt. downstairs, but the crazy bald guy was moved in instead.  The black guy has sometimes talked w/ me in the past.  But, during winter, as I was walking through a vacant lot, looking down , hoping to find my lost keys, this guy walked parallel on the street, and begand screaming at me.  Just a repetitive screech.  I said hi, but he just kept doing this.  So I shouted at him, and said, "Or don't you talk to white people?"

Because, the attitude of blacks here, towards whites, is really retarded, and it certainly reinforces the retarded white racism.  It's just a trap - a sinkhole.  I tend to fight against it at times.  I almost got myself in a lot of trouble once.  Other times, I get berated, or etc., and I just move on.  Like the time a gang a blacks excoriated me as having voted for Trump - uh, wut?  That's one reason I now have a long pony tail.  It helps shut up all the assholes that somehow conclude I am a racist Republican.  You see, as in many places, simple self-confidence, independence or liberty is generally hated, interpreted as narcissism, and attacked.  This is part of the general human habit of turning JEALOUSY into MORALITY into THE JUSTIFICATION FOR VIOLENCE.

Anyway, as I was walking to the library, yesterday, this particular black guy began talking to me.  He correctly assumed that I was walking to the library.  And he enthusiastic began talking about books.  "You know any good books there I could get?"  [It's, um, a library, dude].  So, it was a little extended convo.  It was nice to be a normal person for a minute.  Of course, he was doing this because he had thought about what I had yelled at him, in the winter.  And that was the intention.  I'm Irish.  This is what I do.

On my way back from the library, I stopped by the food pantry, to see if there were any food cans left out that suited my tastes.  I found two boxes of gluten free crackers, which I am sure a particular lady-who-works-there had set out, thinking of me  - as she has done this several times.  She likes me, (not in THAT way), and she feels sorry after the departure of Bee Girl, whom she knew I really liked.  She knew THOSE WERE THE DAYS, when both Bee Girl and I would liven up the place with pleasant banter.

There are good Christians and bad Christians, and some in-between.  It is always interesting to watch goodness come out of something akin to Catholic guilt, or such.  Goodness comes out of a lot of places.  But as for me, I have become completely estranged from this non-progressive kind of patch-work, apologetic, sentimental goodness.  It is very lonely not knowing why people can't just be good right out, and skip all this other circuitry.  But, this tall volunteer woman, she was good enough, for whatever reason, and in whatever manner.  We should be thankful for what scraps there are.

Well, as I picked up the crackers, and a few cans of veggies, three older black guys came out of the pantry proper.  I said hi to one guy who had said hi to me in the library earlier, as if he knew me.  Everyone around here knows me - as I stand out, and as I have built a strange sort of reputation.  He held the door open for me, and I said, "Thank you, sir!"  We both ended up walking in the same direction outside.  So, he said something to me, which I asked to repeat, as I still had my earplugs in.

"The pantry's open..."

He meant I could go in and do the regular rounds, getting lots more food.  When I realised what he said, I responded, "I know.  But I'm so tired!"

Gradually, I am getting to the point where I can let people know that I have serious fatigue, etc., and not have to worry about being messed with.  If a stranger is known to be vulnerable here, he may be in trouble.  But when someone is KNOWN around here, then there may be sympathy.  I have been here 6 years or so, and it is still taking forever to be trusted.  A lot of people are inclined never to trust certain people, as hate makes fun conversation at the bar, in the hood, etc.

Well, I guess my response kinda spooked this guy.  If you think about it, "I'm so tired," is not a macho thing to say.  So, I guess that means I am weak, foolish, lesser, etc.  The guy reverted to something VERY common here: First talk nice, then walk away shouting or talking to yourself as if the niceness was just a fake-out.  So, this guy walked away from me shouting to himself.  Because.  Nothing a white person can say is right.  Really.  That is how it is here.  I have spoken of the black racism here before.  MLK would be outraged.  But, when I talk about it, I am Donald Trump, or some such evil.  The whole country is in a mental trap.

The weather is good.  Finally.  I am looking forward to giving my dog a fair walk.  Two of the cans from the pantry were labelled, "Beans and mushrooms."  But I opened one and there were zero mushrooms - just beans.  I do not need beans!  I already have so many beans here they are coming out of my ears.

One of the movies I picked up at the library was, "The Good Catholic."  This was a mistake.  I was thinking about, "The Last Catholic in America," when I grabbed it.  I want to check out that book or movie, to see if I can use anything towards my own writing ideas.  I once bought a copy of this book for my brother.  He read it and said it was very funny.  When he learnt that I had never read it, myself - I had only read about it, and thought it would make a good gift for him.  Well, this made him angry, believe it or not.  And that, my friend, is called bullshit.

So - my computer keeps getting shut down when I am online.  That means I am going to say good bye, for maybe a week or so.  Because.  I need to fix it.  Download security patches and programmes via dial-up.  Spend days crawling back up the water spout.

When people learnt that I didn't necessarilly ascribe to their fictions of Moses, and Lucifer, and all that, they felt they were obligated to defend their superstitions by making an unspoken, lifelong enemy of me.  Of course, for me to name this makes me a conspiracy theorist.  Because people insist that they go so far out of their way, being GOOD to me, right?  Anyway, henceforth, I was psychologically disallowed the luxury of naive happiness, confident in a promised heaven, or a clear danger of hell.  Instead, in my existential journey, in my insistence that heaven must be here on Earth, in the heart of humans, I was given not this heaven, and not my own, but I was given the responsibility of experiencing hell on Earth.  That's what religion does to the people it doesn't like.  And, if you complain enough, you are attacked.  Possibly exterminated, it depends.

Religion generally is a vehicle for man's mass madness.  Which is too bad.  Because man means well.

Please forgive me for my blasphemy.  Please forgive the trees that would grow with or without you.  Please forgive the land that sought not your scouring, or the waters that you have turned to desert.  Please forgive this tiny little dot spinning helplessly through the night, wanting only a bit of peace in its brief awakening.  Please forgive the heart of Sysyphus, so heavy and eternally broken, and the words that fly like arrows through the chaos of my mind.  Please forgive what I am, or what I am not, sincerely.

The Good Catholic.
Tags: books - 'last catholic in america', dogma, goodness, local customs, religion

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