Fuck You

I don’t know. Everyone, almost everyone, seems like such a piece of shit to me. I don’t understand why they’re friends with one another. Like to like I suppose.

They’re “kind” and have good “character” or “qualities”. Whatever.

They’re garbage. I don’t even know.

I need to build this server. I need to figure out if the ethernet port in my room upstairs gets service. If it can be, without a comcast router. Or maybe we can just lease another one? Moneh moneh moneh. I wish to break it.

May get us fined, though… or Oleg will get into a fistfight with a tech from the company, is what I see in our future. Ouch.

I told my caring friend thank you and that I was feeling better. I don’t want him meddling.

Mom is such a mom. I don’t mean that in any way other than that she’s a person, who occasionally spreads the love. Moms and society. The connection. But that’s rather narrow-minded as well…

I’m seeing things in such boring colors. There’s nothing to life.

Did my French exercise. Need to study data sceince.

I want to do something that’s fun.

My brain disease wasn’t as bad today. Schizoaffective disorder (misdiagnosis, as usual), more like schizophrenia, but the whole diagnosis criteria and spectra for it are shit crap anyway. Therapist is just some guy with a job. Therapy’s a scam. How nice. I meet with my addiction doctor tomorrow. Still off kratom, the suboxone has been taken at random times throughout the day, which my addiction doctor does NOT want. Dad worked about the house the day. He is trying to start small businesses with no success so far. None that I see. He is renting an office that is too expensive, will put him in bankruptcy, the family is going to have to deal with it. I don’t know what the terms of his contract are. I’m scared of what that shit head idea is doing. Nothing, mostly, but a very destructive form of nothing.

My coworker harassed me all day again. I’m a scientist. Not a good, um, not making us look good man. Plus I was harassed all day.

Adults. Are children. This is the new era. The definition. Adults ARE children.

I am still reading poetry.

Let me know if I forgot anything.

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