I think I’m reaching new levels of hopelessness. The ironic thing here is that the actual hopelessness comes from my relationship to people who never stop looking at me instead of listening to what I say. It’s like dealing with My 50th generation alcoholic cat who won’t stop masturbating every time he sees me because he believes his life depends on his obsequiousness. It’s so deep into his genes that I have to throw water on him to get him to show some goddamn independence. I would feed them if they would leave me alone. They stand there believing they are saviors, all of them, all of you, believing you are above everyone and everything there in your narcissistic delirium. They never get it. You never get it. Nobody ever gets it.
There is a game that is played by the Christians. At least I think the Christians invented this. It is possible that the Jews invented this but I’m not really sure it’s true. As I understand Hasidic Judaism, the parents tried to find the children spouses at a reasonable age and hope for the best that they will be okay. The basic theory is to avoid the poison that comes along with playing around outside marriage. All of those little diseases one picks up along the way get avoided If you agree that it’s one woman and that’s what you get. This is obviously not what the Christians do.
I’m starting with this because my neighbors have entered a new stage that is completely identical to the old stage except that I only really have two adversaries left. Of the furious five, I’ve managed to kill three of them. Some seriously and for a lifetime I imagine. Not that they didn’t have it coming. I’m actually not this ruthless in real life. I really do prefer to be a softy. There’s just too much death here in this Nazi stench camp. You never get away from the Nazis.
What I know about the positive side if Nazi culture is that they worship the beauty of the human form. Technically, this is an exercise of antisemitism because the word of God says we’re not supposed to do this. I think this fuels Nazi energy. They love being bad boys so much. And, they love porn. I’ve never met a group of people as severely depraved as the Germans. The sickness that lives around me, just my next door neighbor really, is of this vein. It’s a level of perversity that you would really not think of as being appealing to other people. They I’m sure thank all of this is good clean fun but if you’re actually one of those people who retains their sense of smell and sound or is even aware of sicknesses entering your body, it can be hard. I have no idea how these people can see themselves as beautiful.
Maybe this is the whole point. One of the basic principles of being a Nazi is to agree that you are of the master race. Your job is to tell people that you are of the master race. That’s all. It’s just a competition. I’m not immune. I’m a pure socialist. I like that everybody participates playing field. This every man for himself was 5 billion people to a side is not a way to play. This is especially true when you allow yourself pollution as a way of self-expression. I am so beautiful, it doesn’t matter how much damage I am causing to everything around me.
Okay, I hate cars. I do hate cars. Anyone who was not wage slave would hate cars. Anyone who was free to live their lives however they want, with the exception of some social contributions, would never choose the poison of an automobile. If you didn’t have the knife under their chin, they would never buy the new car smell or modern ergonomics or all the lies that go along with it. It’s just something else that is really difficult to afford but if you don’t have it, you can forget about your image.
There it is again. The physical body right there in front of your face. We are worried about our image. It’s what we look like that counts. How people see you. This is my problem. I keep saying that I am so completely physically offended by my neighbors and their behavior that all I ask for is mild relief from them from themselves. But they do not hear me because they are allowed not to hear me. They are beautiful and everything they do is perfect. They are just looking at me and they don’t like how I look. That’s enough for them. What I do, where I’ve been, what I know or why I do what I do is utterly unimportant. Even my actual physical condition is nothing to them. I refuse to supplicate and they can’t understand why I continue to hold out.
Well, I guess I should explain how I changed things. Like a lot of thoughts I have I’ve been trying to let these things go and not bring them out in the open. I’ve been trying to allow this blogging to go away because I don’t really like being a blogger. I don’t mind supporting an ecology magazine. That would be a vegan ecological magazine. I wouldn’t even mind doing free lessons. I just don’t have the energy for anything. I am so sick. I am so sick everyday. I am never allowed to stop being sick because they bring the sickness to me twice a day as if I must be fed it. They cannot understand that they are disease carriers. Or worse, they know they are disease carriers But they do it because they believe this is the Russian way. They are listening to Putin. They are anti-Semites. They are enjoying being Nazis.
But I did make a dent. It was too tactics that worked. The first one was some hysterical weekend yelling. I haven’t been doing too much since because in a way, I believe I’m getting close to the exit. I believe the ideas are seeping into their head of what their futures have in store. Or at least, there is enough paranoia in their lives that is based on reality that might have them thinking about actually leaving, which would be the best for everybody. Leave or die, that sort of thing.
No, I did not threaten them. I simply badgered them one day in a way that I had never done before because it’s not really my way to do so. Okay, I am a known badgerer. I’m a natural lawyer. Well, I’m an honest public defender. But I used an argument that would normally not be appreciated except that it worked. I ranted for 10 minutes about the insult about being overrun by niggers.
Now don’t get your panties in an uproar. You have to use words that are appropriate. No matter where you think you are, you’re either bringing your morals and values or you’re speaking the local language. I can’t speak as a politically correct American or even a politically corrected American. I can’t hold my tongue and nervously choose my words. I have to speak in a language that is understood by the locals. It was the most frustrating thing to be overrun by low rent niggers.
It was an interesting thing because it was a genuine hit. You could tell. You really could tell. It wasn’t just that my neighbors understood that I was speaking about them in a way that had always been true. She is a nigger. That’s the only reason he married her. She was easy and a social climber. I believe she actually was a prostitute or maybe she’s just one of these lazy ladies who doesn’t mind taking advantage or hurting people to get what she wants. He’s a lazy cunt. I call him a fagot which in Russian is pederast, a common word that means the same thing. I say this to his face and he agrees. I made a film where I said this to him and he slunk away. He is what he is and he married what he married and this is my luck.
But then again, that’s why they are in Belarus. They serve no formal governmental function. Nobody put them here or supports them. They are hustlers. They are trying to make money just like me most of my career. Only I’m in the country to retire and get away from the rat race and they really have nowhere to go. She’s a nigger. She will never have a conversation with anyone here where they don’t look at her face and she knows that that’s what they are thinking. Even people who are nice to her are nice because of their inherent liberalism. She’s a nigger. That’s all you really need to know.
This was a genuine status change. But the worst thing is is I have a really loud voice. I was screaming it at them. I’m sure they called the cops and I’m sure the cop said fuck you. How many times can you call the cops because the American who you torture is screaming? I know he’s screaming, you stupid nigger, you never leave him alone. Nothing ever happens and so when I say these things, they tend to stick.
But it wasn’t just the insult to them. It was the pure knowledge that these words drifted to the neighbors. Especially the neighbor directly across the street. There was a moment where the thought creeped into their head that they are also being run by niggers. It distressed their need for status. They don’t really look so good running at the hysterical screams of some nigger. What do people actually think of them? Because my voice is loud so I’m always pretty much talking to town even though I’m quite far away. How many people just had the revelation that the bitch is a nigger and they’ve been being run by a nigger and a fagot rush and all this time.
Well eventually that ended and I went back to catching COVID. It’s really hard to be outside. I’m sure the weather is nice but every morning and every evening when the car transportation comes by, there’s waves of sickness that go through my body. At the beginning of the week, I think they let the daughter and the baby stay here for a day. The level of illness that struck me was something I’ve never experienced before in my life. Every injury I’ve ever had in my entire life exploded. The level of inflammation made move into much. I had made a day of making a nice garden on Sunday. After being outside and in close proximity to this new type of poison, it was over.
I was immobile. I think I must have pulled a muscle in my rib cage on the right side and all movement was impossible. I couldn’t even roll over to my side. My movements became slow motion mime parodies of life. I had to walk so slowly as to hold all of my body parts together out of fear of pain that came from it. This wasn’t psychosomatic, this was deep ridiculous illness. I had to go through my entire diet to see if I was adding inflammatories to myself. All salt, sugar and oil were removed. Only the blandest diet was enough to allow my health to recover. Absolute ground zero or experience the most agonizing physical pain possible.
But before this is when I really set the hook in deep. It is when I truly separated my neighbors from their support systems. Sometime later, in the evening when people were actually around and coming back from work just like them, I believe this was Friday evening, I started imitating the sound of my neighbors hysterical chicken voice. This made her excited. He’s paying attention to me. I kept it up and she got to argue with me. She loves arguing with men. That’s the thing about being a prostitute. You get really good at controlling men. That is all she wants. That’s what she craves. That’s why she never leaves me alone. She is the most horrible woman on the planet who actually believes that she’s still attractive or should be to someone like me, whatever she thinks that is. I can’t imagine it any other way other than pure Nazism. I mean if this is self-infliction for the purpose of causing pain, that’s some pretty deep self-hatred. I guess she doesn’t really like being a nigger or a whore but, it seems she never actually wanted to do the work to break either of those stereotypes.
But then just when she got her friends around her and she was the center of attention because the American was asking her to pay attention to him, I went back to Stevie Wonder. Sasha Baron Cohen is a remarkable artist. I heard him on the internet telling a story about meeting the lead singer of Oasis. He makes a point of saying that the man gets violent. I think Gallagher is his name. I’ve never openly tried to listen to an oasis song but I understand their existence. He asked Cohen who the greatest living rock star was. The first answer was Stevie Wonder. That’s why the guy’s great. It’s the truth.
I wasn’t playing the guitar, I was listening. Had my big fat headphones on. I have six or seven Stevie Wonder albums and I let them play when I do yard work. I have other music that I listen to but how do you not feel better listening to Stevie Wonder. Locals say it’s about disco. That’s why they are Russians. They don’t know the difference. Stevie Wonder is not disco. Stevie Wonder is the voice of God.
And that was all that needed to happen. I put the plate in front of them, they all ran to eat from it and then I pulled it away. I just went back to humming my own music. They couldn’t speak to me because I couldn’t hear them. I was wearing my headphones and not paying the slightest attention to them which is how I try to live my life most days. I beg for a day where I don’t have to pay attention to these filthy niggers. But that was only took. I showed them what they wanted and then I said no, it’s mine and not yours. You’re the bitches and I’m the boss. I’m this culturally significant guy and you guys are niggers and pederasts. The only thing I want in all the world is to not have them near me or to remind me that I live next door to them so it’s my obligation to smell their stench and feel their illness. If I don’t like it, it doesn’t really matter who’s argument is better, they are Russian and that means I adjust to them. They look at me, I don’t look at them.
I really would rather not. I really would have rather paid all my attention to nature. God I think is another way to say this. I really just wanted to garden. I didn’t want to be inflicted with every disease in the world and be forced to listen to people who are aware that they are next to me. The woman is the same person that created my cat. She can’t not attach herself to me. She can’t even be told to stop. Even her husband seems to think it’s completely appropriate that his wife attaches herself to other men. Well, I guess if you’re a pederast and you marry a nigger whore, that’s what it is right? I can’t call him a cuckold because it would make him laugh. Well, it doesn’t make him laugh but he lives for the humiliation and he doesn’t mind one bit if his wife has someone else to play with. I’m sure he has his own plaything, whatever the age or sex might be. That must be why he drives off all the time. I’m sure he has somewhere better.
But it is what happened after this meeting that really changed things. The neighbors dutifully came. Even the ones from down the road jumped in their car to drive the 50 m to their neighbors. They don’t dream of walking anymore. If they walk near me I insult him so horribly and there’s nothing that they can do about it. They are bootlickers. They are absolute drug addicts. I’ve never seen people smoke more cigarettes in my life. It’s like looking at crushed people in a heroin clinic trying to keep their shit together. And they showed up and there was the nigger doing her dance. And then the nigger said look, look, there he is. He’s following me. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t and suddenly they looked up and they realized that they had been being run by a nigger. That was something you could definitely feel. I may be an object of hatred, but I’m really fucking smart and I think suddenly people were reminded to look at the color of the skin of the woman begging for their attention.
That party broke up rather depressingly. Everybody said well, I guess you’ll be okay. Same thing as the cops. If he really does something, you let us know. In parentheses they were probably thinking you fucking nigger. But, that’s how the moment of excitement ended for our heroin. That was the first moment that she realized that she doesn’t really have shit. She doesn’t really have friends. She isn’t really the center of attention. She’s just a nigger whore and everyone is getting a little tired of her noise.
We’ve all been pretty quiet since then. Oh, I had to run in with Quasimodo. His wife was working in the field and he decided this was a good time to butcher all living things with his motorized male masturbation device. I like his wife. I said hello and she said hello back and I asked her some questions about her agriculture. Our was interesting and the percentage of her diet that they take care of through their own land. She was smiling at me during this conversation. You should have seen her husband react.
Friendly words? He was kind to a woman? Of course. We our friends. He showed me his middle finger. This is his only gesture. I reminded him that that was all he had. I asked him why he wasn’t helping his beautiful wife? The wife answered that he was doing manly work and working in the field was a woman’s job. I told him he was a horrible fagot. No real man would leave his wife to work alone like that much less destroy her entire aesthetic moment. Maybe she wanted a quiet moment working in the field. Maybe she also is someone who looks for the hand of God as she works silently on her agricultural projects. Maybe she also doesn’t quite understand why there has to be a motor whining along instead of allowing her a moment of meditation. Does he not even understand the level of aesthetics that women possess? Has it never occurred to him that it has something to do with taking care of children over the millennia? Does he even understand that such a thing exists even in his own house? I trembled to think of the two of them even thinking about sex. I doubted it it was worth thinking about. He only has that finger and I don’t think he even knows how to use it.
It is interesting. There was a moment a few days before. He was actually doing some physical field work. I’ve never seen this before. No machines, just walking around and picking up weeds. I saw him out there and clanked a pot to scramble his moment a little. Just a little being devilish. But the reaction was intriguing. He didn’t look to me. He looked to my neighbor. He was afraid she would be angry at him for doing physical labor in the field. He’s deeply attached to her. I mentioned this to him as well but he is more attuned to the prostitute than to his wife. Well, I said, I guess prostitutes are are more interesting than your wife if you can’t do anything anymore with your wife.
So it’s very quiet here now but that’s not what it’s about. They still drive their cars in and out. That’s the one thing that has always needed to change. Everything else is their own invention. All I asked them to do was to stop putting their fucking cars in my face. At first they said it was the noise and now they love noise. They cannot comprehend pollution. They cannot comprehend causing damage as being a problem. They cannot comprehend that aesthetics could exist or that people might have their senses. They are from town. They have no sense of smell or taste. They have no sense of sound. They do not take any natural experience as existing. They never allowed themselves a moment out of the factory.
I think the worst of it was needing to go outside in the middle of the night. I often don’t understand why I’m called to do these things exactly when they must come. But on my way back, it was the smell. It wasn’t only the smell. It was the sheer understanding of what this smell meant. In all of their new isolation, they decided to try some intimacy together. Of course her choice is included dousing herself with perfume. Mixed with cigarettes and it’s a whorehouse. Forgive me for understanding what a whorehouse smells like. But this is what they are. But it wasn’t only that. It was the empathetic understanding of some form of cancer living inside them. I think she was actually dreaming of me. I yelled that she should cut it out and the mood was broken.
Like I said, the level of the illnesses that they have inflicted upon me have taken everything away. I can’t enjoy anything. I have to be sick all the time. And it’s not just a core illness or a fever, it has to do with my ability to move. This is always questionable anyway but the level of pain that I have to suffer just to be re-stuffed with disease is so infuriating. I am being assaulted by biological weapons. The Russians have weaponized their people. This is modern warfare. This is all of the disease known to man in one package and it’s being transported by cars every day to everyone everywhere. The planet is sick but the people are too sick to notice because nobody ever lets anybody heal.
So I really have no optimism. I take no joy in anything. To my neighbors, it is that I am completely isolated. I have rejected everyone and everything. I desire to be alone. I even scream at my cat to get away from me everyday and spray it with the hose if it even tries to masturbate or pray to me because I feed him his food. He’s starting to get the picture. Like I said, 50 generations of obsequious alcoholics. He looked over his shoulder at me and said well, I have better places to be than with you. I said thank God. Do you know how much your food costs?
But it’s the pure sensory assault. There’s no freshness in the air. All I can smell is the house. It’s cigarettes and gasoline. It’s acrid. It’s a horrible stench that spoils the air everyday. There is no early summer. There is no sensory enjoyment of life because this epic cancer exists next to me. It’s an eyesore but that’s not even the beginning of it. It’s what it does to your ears and your nose. And if you know anything about agriculture or if you even give a shit about environmentalism, it’s knowledge of the destruction they are causing to every living thing around them. Truly, if this is the model for the auto business, please no more oil. Please for the love of God, come to your senses and stop giving people licenses to do this. It truly ruins every single day of my life and that’s without considering the sickness that it genuinely brings.
It’s a shame really to have a life without a shred of pleasure. Well, there are moments. I said that I adjusted my diet and became better. I could comfortably lie down and read. I have managed to do almost all the basics and luckily it has been not so brutal yet but missing the watering hasn’t killed anything. It’s all a test really. But I’ve done almost all the standard minimums even though the house looks like crap and needs a good cleaning. No, I haven’t even had the energy to sweep the floor.
I just wish my neighbors could get it through their heads that they do not own pleasure. They do not say what is correct and incorrect pleasure to me. My sensual experience of pleasure is my own. To have people say that I have no right to experience pleasure without their approval is ridiculous. But to have these people literally deliver omicron directly to my door despite my cries of desperation is unreal. They refuse to understand. They are the people who mame or kill the protesters asking for an end to oil. To an end of unnecessary commerce. To an end to economic slavery and the war and misery and bloodshed that comes along with it. They are violent and you’ve given me their diseases only requires living their life, can’t you see how lovely it is? All they have to do is press the gas pedal. It doesn’t bother them in the least but if they know it harms me, isn’t that really what it’s all about?
Tell me this is not what is happening. Tell me this is a life of being deprived of sensory enjoyment. Tell me this is people who have no knowledge of sensory enjoyment or taking pleasure from their sense of smell or their sense of taste. Tell me it’s not possible that people have no knowledge that human beings have pleasure for a purpose. Tell me this is not the plan of keeping a war going. Tell me this is not the Russians or Christianity. Tell me that this is not what the entire bloody argument is about. Tell me why we are not allowed to use our senses? Tell me why we are not allowed to enjoy anything?
