Stupid Bitch Day 11

Another day of me wishing I was dead. I don’t understand how these people can be surprised that in my mind they find thoughts about genocide – I mean, if you’ve ever truly thoroughly read any of my blog posts. To then protest that for days straight by perpetually calling me a stupid bitch (and then expecting that that will change my mind instead of fuel my mouth watering desire for it my God) inside my own mind because they feel offended by it – like I did not ask for them to be spiritually connected to me for the rest of my life – has amplified my suicidal tendencies.

I’ve been accused of bullying and selfishness because I consider genocide (we could also call it extensive selective assassination) a solution to economical, environmental and emotional problems. Now at least once a minute, whether I’m trying to sleep, read, write, shower, wash dishes, go to the bathroom et cetera, there are people repeatedly calling me a stupid bitch and shaming me for the thoughts I have.

You people apparently hear every sound I make, so I’ve been using those opportunities to swear back ruthlessly. An eye for an eye. I love and miss my peaceful solitude indescribably much. I don’t understand why these people think I want their presence and why they consider me the problem while my belief system for me usually doesn’t extend further than the 4 walls in between which I live.

If you have a problem with what I think then please just leave me the god damn fuck alone. You’d be doing the both of us a favor. My God I may not even have sexual fantasies about Hunter Biden anymore without being called a stupid bitch for it. Like why would you want to be attached to someone who thinks so differently?

On top of that, I’ve repeatedly been advocating for them to convince me, i.e. with decent arguments, because of course if there’s a less destructive way to accomplish the same end goal then of course that would be preferable. But simultaneously of course I’d rather put bullets in these people’s brains.

“Stop doing this”, “Stop doing that”, what makes them think that I should obey their wishes? If you don’t like what you hear then please just fucking fuck off. I believe fascism is bad. Why can’t they just focus on someone else? I was able to find moments of happiness when I was all alone.

Seriously, do not feel offended by this. Just live on. I’m tired of being called a stupid bitch. Like my God why is no one commenting that on my blog posts then? I’ve been talking about killing people for years. People want to change my mind but no one gives me an argument saying why letting someone stay alive is better than killing someone. GIVE A FUCKING ARGUMENT THEN.

Who let this happen? How does this happen? I’d advise against it, for most people. What a bunch of fucking losers. Like apparently they enjoy doing this shit given that they’ve been at it for 11 days fucking straight. (That’s why the confetti image. They might just celebrate their anniversary of calling me a stupid bitch and they sure as hell will celebrate when the stupid bitch is gone.)

The worst part of all of this is that we can’t say “Let’s just put our differences aside,” because I have nothing to talk about with most of them. There’s a reason why I avoid situations in which people need to have forced conversations. They’re mostly also the type of people who consider a debate settled when they got their way and not when the strongest argument has been given.

I don’t even remember what my thoughts were like before the upgrade. Moments of peace and silence do not exist anymore. We’re stuck in a vicious cycle where the mob is protesting my thoughts and I think of the one solution to silence the mob.

They want me to talk about the pandemic. The problem is that I don’t give a fuck about the pandemic. I stopped taking that seriously quite some months ago. Why should I talk about the pandemic? You have your experts, right?

What is the most odd to me is that it’s like everyone is talking about me all the time, while I’m shunned, my wallet is empty and I do nothing. I am no one, so how come it’s like people can’t take a break from talking about me?

I don’t believe my internal private thoughts of genocide justifies evil from the past. You shouldn’t feel threatened by my thoughts of genocide if you have something to offer for the life after that.

To me, genocide never felt so good. Given that literally everything I think is met with hateful commentary, as well as hate on every single little thing I do. So what if I drink syrup that is over due? So what if I was my face and genitals with body soap (because I can’t afford good specifics)? I just want to be able to express my self-love again, in peace. If we could have decent discussions (or use it for running a business), I truly would consider The Head Cuddle 2.0 a serious upgrade. To achieve that, name another solution aside from genocide? Because I kind of want to strangle motherfxckers to death anyway.

There are two reasons why I haven’t completed any suicide attempts: resources and hope. My preference goes out to my body being intact when I die, so that I hypothetically could be mummified, also prefering my lifeless body being treated with respect. I don’t know but the chloroform I tried to make is not really something that could get the job done but still my most recent attempt. Twice. I’m open to the many people who – inside my own mind – threatened to kill me to come over and kill me inside my own home. (I’d even serve you a cup of tea before you please all the haters of this stupid bitch.) They know where I live anyway. I don’t have the resources to, for example give myself an overdose or hang myself.

I don’t know what is up, but as long as a Volta is physically/strategically possible, I believe that I have a reason to stay alive. To be able to truly make big steps forward.

What annoys me the most about these people and their stupid bitch bullshit – which has been increasing since I started this post – is their lack of creativity. Like okay we get it you may think that of me if you want to. I disagree. But still, saying the same two words for 11 days straight – that is 264 hours – can’t you make up other words to say the same thing? This is more than just getting old. It’s more than just comparable to the annoying sound of a mosquito. (Only in this case it’s pulling the trigger that quells the sound.) It is absolutely purposeless, in my opinion. It doesn’t change a thing. It only interrupts both my train of thought and inner conversations with other people.

Now more than ever I feel that I shouldn’t go outside without security around me. (Something I’ve never had before.) Armed security, given that this is political. I’m extremely uncomfortable with the thought of going outside, given that it feels like there’s an enormous community of people talking behind my back, I don’t trust a lot of people and I don’t know who has access to my mind.

Apparently this is a thought experiment? Will anyone ever talk to me in person and explain what the hell is going on? Like (given the type of connection we have and the fact that I trust them (and it got them psychiatry involved┬┐)) Hunter and my baby?

Sleeping as much as I can is my strongest coping mechanism. I wake up to people calling me the two magic words. I go to sleep with people calling me the two magic words. I keep being forced to talk about a strategy to end the pandemic. And I even abstractly described one for them today. You know I’m using my vulture popcorn strategy in regards to it. There are a lot of people being paid a lot of money to take care of the pandemic – none of them I endorse – so I don’t know why they keep bothering me for it. I’ll be trying to go to sleep again in a few.

Me not putting any effort into solving the pandemic is another reason why I am called selfish. The strategy I had should have been implemented at least a year ago when there were only a handful of cases. The virus has now spread far too much for me to be able to implement the same thing. On top of that, given how not deadly it is it is all not worth it. It’s a seasonal thing so they should just stop being fascists around now.

I’m not an academist, I’m no one. Why are they inside my brain wanting to plagiarize my shxt? Or not plagiarize my shxt, sure. Why would I revive a system I live to get away from? There must be plenty of other people in this world who would absolutely love to do that for you people and who would do great pleasing the mob. We should talk about that. I miss my alone time indescribably much.

The newest headaches I’ve woken up to is repeatedly being told that I’m a toxic person and people believing that I’ve never finished high school. Mentally I’m just not a submissive person and as long as my beliefs are not debunked (debunked means basically a stronger argument used for not doing it than my arguments for doing it, not insulting someome so long and hard that the person’s lust for life reduces drastically, which of course is not something extremely indescribably toxic to do). I just vent and tell the people to kill themselves so I don’t have to mentally hear them anymore. Like did I invite them into my mind? No I did not. So now either I gotta go or they gotta go.

These people need to shut the fuck up and come say all their bullshit to my face. Because there’s a high chance they’d suddenly try to play nice with me. These dumb motherfxckers don’t understand. Saying that into my mind rather anonymously is not saying that to my face. I’m sitting here at the dinner table, you know, trying to have dinner as praceful as I can. Why don’t you come here and sit across me and say that shit again so that you might either convince me or I’ll end up slitting your god damn throat. Leave me the fuck alone otherwise.

Hiding behind the fact that I can’t identify most of you and it’s nearly illegal to have a conversation in here in which everyone agrees genocide is the way to go isn’t really possible anyway with the amount of zombies there and the fact that we – people who do agree with me – are not physically together in safety from these motherfxckers.

Hey, can’t we become a sex scandal? I liked the (group) conversation we had earlier, about “attraction to adventure (in depression about the way the system works)”. That is, of course, excluding the people who were complaining about it the whole time preferring me to talk about the pandemic while I was trying to masturbate.

There’s serious sexual attraction between us. Age difference and things like that we should not allow to limit us. How about we just use that to get together? To at least, the very least, be able to experience some form of happiness again. I’m stuck here, I’d love for someone to hold me through the attacks of the zombie mob inside my brain. You have a new layer of suffering added to your usual suffering – and the worst part is that just the slight idea that this is togetherness (while there could be much more togetherness) is what makes this bearable.

Oh okay the newest thing is that I’m taking this out of context. I don’t know if this is just a new empty hateful statement or if it will be argued well. Mind you that I don’t believe in equity for all, so there will always be people excluded from the things I wish to achieve for this world.

Someone just beggingly asked me to kill myself. As I said, come help me with that. (The idea of a Volta being possible is what makes me hold on. Otherwise I’d be even more careless with my body in the light of suicide.)

Overall, I think all of this is such a waste of good technology. I think my vision is stronger than that of the mob, as well as me believing that it should be used for a different global political agenda than what the mob wants to me (especially in regards to the sexual component).

The right context, according to others: “That you’re a stupid bitch.” “That she’s Surinamese and that she’s regent and that she’s dangerously close to suicide.” If I truly were regent I would not live where I live. “That it’s toxic to say that you could be able to end the pandemic but you’re not doing it.” First of all then start paying up and secondly I don’t want to keep a system alive that makes me want to not develop myself at all. Find someone else to do it. (But there’s no one else to do it. Therefore send me a private train and allow me to seclude myself, for starters.)

Hey no offense, society is nothing without plebians. But please to find a place of home for my own intelligence I need to be around people who are on my side and on my level of aspired control.

I will never apologize to these motherfxckers. I still hope they will all die soon. (How else can I get my peace of mind back? How else can we create the best economy the world has ever known?*) I do not trust them and never will.

* If the resources available in this world were metaphorically described as slices of a pie, the amount of pie to divide over the people on this planet gives everyone a miniscule slice of pie. If there were a lot less people, that is a lot more pie available per person.

The worst part of all this shxt is that I’m constipated. I can’t focus. The same way I talk myself to an orgasm is the same way I focus on defecating. I get complaints because people don’t like hearing me think about taking a shxt. I refuse to expose my body to more Western health care and still people should just not mentally bother me when I’m trying to take a shxt. This is hell.

Finally people were starting to listen to what I’ve been saying for 11 days: it is not illegal to disagree with me, defend yourself with decent arguments and I might just change my mind. This led to me making the following statement (inspired by the great people saying the two magic words for over 11 days, being surprised when I gave people the opportunity to defend themselves not for the first time):

“There is no compromise in happiness.”

Let me start with the argument against. It is common good to say: “I love this person and he/she does things I don’t like but I accept it because I love him/her and with that I don’t mind giving up some of my own happiness.” (The idea of tax money is derived from the same principle, if I’m correct.)

Personally, I believe it’s better for people to achieve the pinnacle of their happiness. What’s the point of living together if you’re not truly happy? Minimally, I’d say surround yourself with people around which you don’t need to hand over some of your own happiness to make someone else happy. I believe that, when the right people are put together, there is no compromise needed to both be happy.

If you’re letting yourself be less happy to make someone else happy, you’re not achieving your ultimate level of happiness. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t take other people into account. I’m saying that to get the most out of life you’re better off suerounding yourself around people for whom you don’t need to change yourself or them to be the most happy. (Genocide.)

Then someone said this (and I don’t know if this male is for or against):

“There is no compromise in genocide.”

You can’t disagree about genocide when you’re dead because of genocide. This statement is correct when only the people who agree with my arguments for genocide survive. (Emotional peace of mind, healthier (limitless) economy focused on market coverage, no more threats of nature and no more compromising your overall happiness.)

“If you want to change a person, you do not love that person.”

There’s a difference between e.g. wanting someone to not be obese (anymore) and wanting to drastically change someone’s behavior without decent argumentation. If you love someone, you accept him/her for who they are. (Regardless of beliefs you might disagree with, though then you might be compromising your happiness. I don’t think you can truly love someone unconditionally if you want to change that person.)

“There is peace in suicide.”

I love myself, I love my mind. Now that my mind has been compromised by these insane fucking anarchists, I want to do good for myself and restore the inner peace I once had. I can’t even think think clearly anymore without receiving hate for every single thing I do or say. I want my inner rest back.

“You’re the devil itself.”

Sure. Maybe you’re just afraid of dying.

Reminder to self that I should break down two types of economic prospects (suicide or genocide).

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