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Cave Dweller -- 04.20.09
 
What Iím doing in my life is not the best of me, rather Iím using the excuse of survival to justify taking a chance at something that Iíll surly fall on my face from, but that nevertheless needs to be undertaken. But, out of fear or something akin to fear I wonít make that move. Eventually Iíll make it, but only when itís safe. Thatís how I do things. Iím like a lawyer thatís taught not to ask a question you already know the answer to. I really need to get away from that mentality.

Right now Iím moving in more. Dealing with humanity only makes me want to not deal with humanity. I know Iím not going to leave a child to this world, because itís a cesspool of horribleness. Itís perpetuated by those who have a ďme firstĒ mentality. Iím not sitting here saying that Iím the most unselfish person on Earth. On the contrary. What I am is considerate of other peopleís feelings. That is too much to ask of others, I see now. So Iím retreating into my Batcave. I have all I need there: a huge TV, blu-ray player, music, a bed, a couple of chairs, my computer. Thatís all I really need.

As I said before, itís time to reassess things, throw things out that arenít needed/wanted, and that simply donít apply anymore. Women, as a group to share a life with, are one such thing. The junk I have in my room is another. Me giving a damn what others think, all these are things I need to completely expunge from my life. Right now I need to be a hermit, keep to myself, deal with people on a limited basis. Itís hard because of the jobs, but outside of work I can clock out and be isolated. Itís not that hard for me to do, Iíve done it in the past.

The other day at that fucking Glendale job I was once again made to feel the fool. I was told to set up the auditorium for some shit event. I wasnít given any instructions outside of, ď100 chairs and one table in the front.Ē I was told to have some space between the first row of chairs and the stage. I left about 20 feet, just to be safe. What I got was grief later when I was told that I, ďmessed up.Ē This despite the fact that no one could actually tell me what the set-up was supposed to be. I know what the set-up was though, it was me to be made to look like a fool. It seems like a small thing to be upset about, but itís not. Itís a piece of a systematic campaign by that Micro-manager women to make everyone that works under her feel like a total piece of shit. Like we canít get ANYTHING right, ever. In her eyes weíre all fuck-ups. Thereís a guy whoís been working there for at least 20 years, and he gets shit for doing something his way. Right away itís, ďhow long have you been working here and you still donít know how to do this?Ē We all just cringe, but canít do much about it since we can do no right either. In a sense when someone else is getting chewed out we collectively say, ďthere for the grace of God goes me.Ē None of us is ever too far from a disparaging remark. Needless to say, that remark ruined the rest of my workday.

I like to talk a lot, but I have to make the Herculean effort to not open my mouth at my Glendale job from now on. They already warned me about talking to my co-workers, by threat of something unspecific, but akin to getting fired I believe. I donít like anyone of my co-workers enough to want to talk to them anyways, but I do talk because thatís my default. However, now I have to consider myself a mute when Iím there. I donít deem then important enough to verbalize anything to them any more. I have to remember not to talk though. In the past Iíve told myself that I would not talk, but then I end up talking. Fuck that, I have to be strong. I have to try anything short of cutting the nerves to my vocal cords to keep me from saying anything.

All this just makes my not being able to go back to my old job at the University library all the more bitter. Which only serves to remind me that I canít take a moment to enjoy a good moment, because the Universe is ready to use that as a set-up to make me feel miserable. If my disappointments were a person Iíd want to choke that person to death.

OK, Iím tired. End Communication.

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