HILJFanClub's Journal: 120307 (truthofitall)

Today is Wednesday the seventh day of March in 2012 A.D., the day of the grace and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit; the day of the salvation, redemption, providence, and blessing of the almighty Lord God Most High. If not today then what other day is there?

I really probably should be frankly honest about this. I do not like you. In fact, I more or less hate you. But, because I have been so carefully disciplining and training myself according to my religious practice, I usually keep that more or less under control. I do not care about your shitty little town. I do not care about your shitty metroplex or even your shitty state. I do not care one whit about this shitty nation, its shitty government, or even your shitty half-assed broken down civilization. I am not waiting to make friends.

In the course of the day I have accepted that I cannot outright kill all of you. Some of you are physically larger than I, some of you have authority of handcuffs and assault weapons (more deadly than a cellular telephone). Some of you are currently in control of thousands of pounds of momentum filled metal and plastic. I am required, by the laws of physics, to take those criteria of mass, momentum, and kinetic energy into consideration. I am required, by the physical properties of the universe, to avoid contact with or, in case of contact, cooperate very carefully with those people who have authority of restraint and incarceration.

Some of you are quite polite. Some of you I do conduct some measure of business with on a daily basis. Those of you with whom I do conduct business with, and who are polite, I may allow myself to "like" to some degree. More or less an exchange of cordial verbal pleasantries based upon proper conduct and etiquette--again, the verse response disciplinary training of my daily practiced religion. Some of you are occasionally useful to my moods and my perception of satisfaction with the day. Coffee, light lunch fare, peanuts, smoking tobacco, marijuana, ten or twenty dollars here or there for peanuts, bread, cheese, maybe Mt. Dew. When existing close to the line of starvation, after having experienced a pilgrimage walk of thousands of miles with no resources and, again, adhering to the disciplinary training of my religion which forbids servile behavior... I prefer marijuana. Water is readily available everywhere, food is largely a hobby, tobacco eases the passing of time but gives me a headache after more than a few... marijuana is the most favorable option to passing through the day without point-blankedly informing the passerby of the truth of the matter.

And the truth of the matter is: I hate you. Very simple. Unlike those of you working for your money and seeking an outlet for your frustrations and your unhappiness I do not need to take action on my hate. I do not need to follow you around. I do not need to criticize your choice of hobbies or enjoyments. I do not need to stand on your shoulder and try to police everything you do and pass judgment on your actions. I do not need to find friends to exchange gossip and bemoan miseries or wallow in deprivation. I am perfectly able to remain in prayer. The final truth is, however, simply put: I hate you.

I have no interest in your automobiles--10% efficient heat engines which only flaunt the abundance which you waste while I am kept out-of-doors like a convict or an animal. I have no interest in your digital devices--though I do have my preference for music. I do not like your preference for music: most of you spend most of your day doing little more than parroting lyrics from your favorite song or television program du jour. I do not give a shit about your major media, your entertainment programming, your nightly news, or even Slashdot--though I have acquired a liking for writing things down. I am not waiting for an opportunity, or waiting for you to accept me, or waiting for you to introduce me to someone that you think I may get along with.

I hate your dumpster divers. I especially hate your fucking dumpster diggers. Every single fucking day at Jonathan's--La Jolla there are the same five or ten people rooting around in the dumpster bin. In any other locale in the world the police would have put an end to such idiocy. The insurance policy for that store should be fucked to oblivion. But no. There's this team of fatass goodfornothing rich trust fun phonies who have a job to do (let's not get into it, read the wiki) and that job includes attempting to sway the public opinion of the area to think of the homeless as drunks, depression freaks, rabid drug fiends, convicted sexual perverts, psychological issues, and desperate dumpster digging mental cases.

I hate the people following me with their dogs. I hate your vigiante neighborhood watch that insists on telephoning group notices to track me every ten fucking steps that I take around the block. I hate your people staffed to meet me at every corner and at every intersection. I hate your people staffed waiting to walk in pace with me down every fucking alley. I hate all of you.

I hate your banks. I hate your streets. I hate your horns and your beeps and your dogs. I especially hate your dogs. I would kill every fucking one of them if I had the option. I hate your cellular telephones and your blackberries and your ipods. I hate your antique junk shops and your art galleries. I hate your wealthy Egyptians and Hebrews who trade in scar tissue from mutilated human bodies as their sex privelege tokens. I hate your Jews who have always been used as the fall-guy to blame, and I hate your Reubenites who coordinate the blaming process. I hate your Christians who worship a guy who was born to be sacrificed and cut up as the scorecard for your sex privelege token system. I hate your Lutherans who couldn't figure out how to walk away from the descendants of the Jews and I hate your Roman Catholics who can't figure out that they're worshipping a religion which is hardly more than a movie script to ensure that guy ends up dead that the wealthy may cut their sex privelege markers from his body (I practice a religion as a discipline--don't think that I am as stupid as the rest of you about what was actually going on in those gospels).

But you people are brain damaged, and that's why I hate you. You think you owe something to society. You think you owe something to the world. You think everyone should owe something to society and to the world. You think that your servile behavior is just the way it is, and that's what you have to do. And that's why I hate you. You believe in "death", and "aging", and you console yourselves that heaven waits for those of you who will explain it all to the Lord when you get there, and you convince yourselves that you're living good lives.

There are those of you who are able to do nothing to assist me because they have near nothing themselves or whatever they have is locked up in month-to-month payments. Those are the people that I pity because I was one of them and I made the better choice for myself. It was a hard choice, and it took work, and it was plagued by those others of you seeking vengeance on me for some imagined slight or offense, but it was a choice that they could make if they really wanted to. After so many years of servile behavior, though, they are resigned to seeking out the same death as the ten or one hundred thousand generations before them.

There are those of you who are able to something to assist me and you refuse to because you believe that it is your right to command servile behavior from others. Those are the people that I really hate. Those are the people actively working to maintain the remainder of the population in grief and misery and drowning in this porridge-puddle of lies that has been propagated and rehashed for thousands of generations.

All of you are waiting to die and nobody is waiting for you to die more than I. Because I hate you. Because the sooner you die off the sooner I will be able to have this life back without your grief, and without your hassle, and without your idiocies.

I do not need to talk to you. I hate you. I do not need to socialize with you. I hate you. I do not need to try to be your friend. I hate you. I do not need anything from you. I hate you.

I enjoy coffee. I enjoy marijuana. It would be nice to have someplace of some measure of privacy to work on sewing repairs to my pack and maybe take a shower... maybe even watch the news. I enjoy light lunch fare.

But none of this will ever be enough to break me into the servile behavior that everyone else accepts as necessary.

Do yourselves a favor. Study thermodynamics. Study the bible. Study "fast". Study the technical difference between "receive" and "take, earn, get".

Live with it. I am not leaving. I left already and walked that pilgrimage. I was not planning on returning but there was no place else which would allow me to sit down in peace for longer than five minutes--and none of the local police there knew me. I am here. I am in La Jolla, CA, 92037, and I hate you. I would happily watch all of you die and rot into the ocean if you would please be so kind to get the fuck off of my planet.

Characters, content., and the people around me.

http://mapfortu.wikispaces.com
http://lpcongo.wikispaces.com
http://hairpinblue.wikispaces.com

Comments: http://slashdot.org/comments.pl?sid=2713221&cid=39283543