KARBYTES_JOURNAL_2022_ENTRY_130


KARBYTES_JOURNAL_2022_ENTRY_130


Note that some of my journal entries (including the one on this page) contain what might later be deemed by me to be outdated content. Each day of my life might as well be treated as separate life times because I change a lot (and I think that is a good thing). I am not the same person I was a few hours ago. I will not be the same person I am hours from now. The journal entries are some of the fossils which remain of my past selves after they died.


17_SEPTEMBER_2022: I wrote the previous journal entry whilst sitting behind the Persimmons shopping center in Dublin. After that, I bought 3 gigabytes worth of mobile data from AT&T for $20 (yet I still need to pay AT&T $30 to renew my monthly mobile phone plan before 06_OCTOBER_2022) and walked to the Dublin BART station where I sat on a stationary train with closed doors for a long, peaceful while. As I sat, I stole sips from a can of gourmet coffee which I snuck onto the train and contemplated allowing myself to go ahead and use the petroleum powered minivan which my parents have allowed me to borrow to get to work. I have decided that it is too impractical for me to camp right outside wherever my workplace is and that it is better to use Horsey Hill as my default camping spot because (a) it is close to my parents’ houses where I can charge my electronics, access backup supplies which I have stowed away for emergencies, and to wash my body and clothes and (b) because the air is relatively clean and the noise level is relatively quiet up there.

I feel like a spoiled brat as I write this (and I heard the thought police say they agree that I am a spoiled brat). Honestly, though, I do feel bad about what I said in the prior journal entry (and out loud to the sky while sitting on the Dublin BART platform) because what I said is surreal in how negatively my words portrayed humanity. Hence, I would argue that those words are mostly about me and my personal insecurities and not really about other people. People are generally nice or, at the very least, neutral towards me. It’s the thought police who have a way of distorting their voices to make those voices sound, to me, like they are parroting the ad hominem insults which the thought police have barraged me with many times. As a scientist, I should know better than to jump to the conclusion that civilians side with the thought police against me. (I do not know who the thought police are, but I do know that they get away with what I think is treating me inhumanely and even to the extent that it is detrimental to my welfare (though I could argue that the thought police are not causing me any serious or real harm and that what the thought police are doing is training me to be more mature, self sufficient, and better prepared to handle adversity as a result of their bullying ways)).

Anyway, I would rather not file yet another “hurt feelings report” because I am sick and tired of making myself out to be an easily offended, overly serious, weak, and irrational victim. Compared to most people, I seem to have a very easy life full of luxury. I think that I should be more humble about my circumstances and less prejudiced and condescending towards other people. There is a part of me I really do not like which keeps taking over and making me think, act, and speak in ways I find abhorrent which is reminiscent of the person I was more than ten years ago back when I had even more discretionary income than I currently have and access to even more luxuries than I currently have. I used to be much more sheltered, pampered, fragile, insecure, and elitist than I currently am. I think that many people (understandably) hated on me and wanted to see me fall down and get defiled because, for so long, I seemed like an untouchable princess who expected everyone else to slave away on her behalf while she simply got supported, fawned over, and praised merely for being beautiful and mildly interesting (as though all I had to be proud of was the fact that I was born into exceptionally fortunate circumstances compared to what seems to be most other humans). It seems that, even to this day, I am being socially pressured to join others in hating on the self I was (and still am) for being an elitist snob, spoiled brat, and self-absorbed media pundit. How am I supposed to live, though? Am I supposed to hide away from the public in my parents’ houses or in the woods and assume that I am being denied employment as punishment for being a spoiled, sheltered, isolationist for too long? Am I supposed to feel ashamed for still relying on my parents for economic support? Am I supposed to become 100% homeless and live on the streets until I am offered some kind of menial labor job while hiding the fact that I ever went to college or ever knew a life other than being in extreme poverty?

The questions I listed in the previous paragraph are meant to illustrate how irrational my critics are. No matter what I do, they seem to be angry at me. I think my critics want me to be perpetually unhappy and to feel that I am being left to rot in a place where people want me to feel ignored, diminished, depleted, defiled, and prevented from evolving. My critics seem to protest every step I take towards trying to better my life as though they want me to think that I do not deserve to feel a sense of accomplishment, nor progress, nor relief from intolerable suffering. Apparently, I had it too good for too long and now it is time for me to spend the rest of my life having to suffer in excruciating agony as “payment” for the fact that I got to have “too easy” of a life for “too long”. Why? The economy seems to be propelled by the idea that every person has to suffer in order to earn their keep. Work is not doing productive tasks. Instead, work is sacrificing health, freedom, and bodily autonomy in exchange for money (and not working is implicitly a heinous crime). Of course, my conceptualization of what work is in the “modern” day and age is doing something (whether it is paid or not) which enriches the human experience more than it does diminish it. My idea of what meaningful work is does not demand that any person suffer just to pay a penance. Sadly, that old fashion notion of having to pay a penance seems to be stubbornly commonplace amongst the thought police and those they seem to have brainwashed into being their fear-driven sycophants.

I often get the sense that people simply do not like to see me get a modicum more satisfaction than they think I ought to have and are quick to try to sabotage it so that I give up trying to be happy and, instead, settle for having no life outside of rotting in some kind of spot where I am not allowed to have hobbies I enjoy. Sometimes I think that is the real reason why I am having a hard time getting even a basic job. I cannot help but worry that other people just do not want me to be happy (and having a job gives me too much happiness). What those people seem to want for me instead is to live on my knees as someone who is helplessly dependent on other people for everything I value. In other words, my enemies seem to be opposed to me being the source of my own enjoyment and sense of value to the extent that they do not even want me to resume my computer science studies and to the extent that they aggressively try to sabotage every activity I partake in which is meant to provide me a sense of agency, enjoyment, skill building, and connection to the kinds of people I would prefer to be connected to. My enemies seem to want to prevent me from having anything other than very infantile concerns so that I am easy to ridicule and dismiss as “too shallow to be of use to society”. I get the sense that people are impatiently waiting for me to have some kind of nervous breakdown about that so that I end up locked away in a padded cell so that I do not cost so much to keep alive and so that I am prevented from having a life other than being reduced to the role of an invalid and baby who is not allowed to grow up.

If Amazon does not hire me, then I will apply for other warehouse jobs. I do not intend to apply for customer service jobs nor food service jobs because I do not enjoy having to behave like an ass kissing butler to people who likely want to take advantage of my subservient position and taunt me to my breaking point. If I work behind the scenes in a warehouse, I think I will be much happier because (a) I will only have to socialize with coworkers and (b) I will not have to be so hyper focused on upkeeping a “family friendly” appearance for bratty customers. Also, warehouse jobs tend to make a decent amount of money per hour compared to the customer service jobs. Lastly, I do not want to have to work with minor coworkers. I would rather be around people who are legal adults because I despise being forced to be a babysitter.

Anyway, I am back in Castro Valley (and I am glad to be because this is my “power spot”). If I shit my pants, I am not too far from home. I can simply walk to either one of my parents’ houses and wash up. If my laptop craps out, I can go to my dad’s house to fetch one of my backup laptops. Finally, there are some okay Wi-Fi networks in the region (but I have plenty of mobile data to keep me off the Wi-Fi for the while). Castro Valley also happens to be within walking distance of very expansive wilderness regions. Finally, Castro Valley might be the only town I can be in where I do not feel like some foreigner. I lived in Castro Valley since 1992. Hence, it will always be my town of origin (which means I will always belong here as a “native” inhabitant (and least according to my idea of what human politics are)).

By the way, if other people crowd me out of my camping spots, I will just quietly pack up my belongings and move to a different camping spot rather than fight over territory (and assume that there will be plenty of open camping spots for as long as I live (however delusional that belief may be in light of the increasing population density, cost of living, and ecological destruction)). Nature is my friend even if humans are not.

Aside: I condone rehabilitation entirely in place of incarceration. What that means is that I believe that every criminal should not have to be locked up in a cage as punishment because I think that is inhumane treatment (and I do not believe that retaliation and retribution are virtues within a modern civilization). The worst criminals should be given as short of hospitalization periods as possible where they are given opportunities to reform their behaviors and to address the root causes of their misconduct and, if they prove to be adequately reformed and able bodied enough to live on their own, released back out into the public (with or without some kind of follow-up care and supervision). What that means is that one should not have to be thrown away into a prison cell for life (or for time periods longer than five years because long prison sentences cause brain atrophy and serious health problems as a result of being in such an unnaturally deprived environment). I believe that every person should be redeemed as quickly as possible rather than be treated as a specimen worthy of torture and being left to rot for other people’s sadistic amusement. I am not sure how popular this opinion is, but I would prefer to live in a society where most people agree with what I said in this aside.


This web page was last updated on 08_OCTOBER_2022. The content displayed on this web page is licensed as PUBLIC_DOMAIN intellectual property.