Just to be clear, last time I checked, I am legally single (and never married). I do not consent to being married to any person without my knowledge nor consent, but I have been getting “hints” from the world around me that other people assume that I am married (or else in some kind of conservatorship) with some other adult (possibly due to the fact that I was hospitalized and classified as being “gravely disabled” in the form of some kind of mental illness (severe depression, severe anxiety, bipolar, and what at least one mental hospital enumerated as a “complex mental illness”). Perhaps other people have been instructed not to disclose some facts about my legal, social, and economic status so that I remain “in the dark” about my standing with respect to society seemingly in order to “prevent harm” from me knowing “too much”. I would even go so far as to suggest that such people want to make it seem to the public that I am not as literate, knowledgeable, experienced, resilient, enterprising, and altruistic (or, at the very least, non retributive and basically a pacifist rather than someone who goes out of there way to inflict violence on others (but, if cornered and threatened by someone who seems to want to harm me, I may resort to physically attacking my attacker in order to defend myself and ideally I would only deal as much damage as necessary to safely escape)). Before I move on to the main subject of this journal entry I want to make the following piece of information explicitly clear: I want to remain single and childfree for the rest of my life (though I am open to casual romantic/sexual encounters with other persons provided that all parties explicitly consent).
Okay. So I hiked back to my dad’s house and am typing this note in the garage. It was misting on the way up the hill (i.e. lightly raining). I decided to start getting in the habit of storing my backpack in my room at my dad’s house some of the time so that I can go out on walks and runs without having to lug all that cumbersome weight and without having to be so restricted in my movements. (I noticed that my back feels a bit stiff from practically being in a back brace for the past few years almost every time I walked). Now that I am successfully in the process of “getting my shit together”, I can confidently say that I will never allow my health to deteriorate as much as it did (though many people think I have been excessively health conscious already). I started getting back into doing pushups and I would like to start incorporating running into some of my walks because that kind of cardiovascular exercise is one of the best anti-depressants available and because it helps to efficiently flush toxins from my cells and supply those cells with more oxygen. As obvious as this may sound, I think that investing in my physical fitness is one of the best investments I can make. Hence, I will make it more of a central priority. I hope to remain as physically active as a healthy, able-bodied 25 year old even when I am at least 90 years old. (Warning: American society seems to implicitly discourage people remaining that healthy and active into old age because it pushes people to be overly dependent on pharmaceuticals and too busy to exercise and too poor and too uneducated to go vegan instead of continuing to rely on foods which harm the human body and Earth’s ecosystem due to the fact that it is cheap to peddle and it does a good job keeping the people too sickly to effectively fight for (and win) a better standard of living for all citizens).
Even though I am legally not homeless, I get the sense that there are some “jealous” people who act like antagonists towards whatever my agenda is and that such people want to prevent me from capitalizing on the benefits of having a place to live. Such people seem to want me to feel too insecure about my stuff getting stolen or tampered with if I leave it at home so that I appear homeless and, hence, continue to get treated like a homeless person (and a homeless person is typically treated as someone who deserves to do nothing other than struggle to merely survive and to fight for what tepid comforts they can while acting profusely grateful to and loyal to whoever provides them a modicum of assistance and to act ashamed of themselves for being “lazy, underemployed bums” and to avoid complaining out of fear of being punished). Though I still prefer to sleep outside, I do not want to have to otherwise live like and be treated as a homeless person. I know that a significant part of why I am considered to be “too poor” to get and to keep a job (and to be “non burdensome to society”) is the fact that I choose to walk (and bicycle when I can afford it) instead of drive a petroleum powered vehicle. I know that it is extremely inconvenient for most Americans to go without owning (or at least borrowing) a car. I am not telling those people they have to forsake driving. All I am doing is saying that I prefer to walk, bike, and take public transportation instead of drive a petroleum powered car because my way is less destructive to the environment (though not by a significant margin) and less costly. Many people seem to shun me and want me to be tortured into compliance over the fact that I do not drive a car like they want me to. Many people denigrate me for that reason and call me vain for spending so much time walking instead of serving my community the way they want me to (and not by being a whore on the streets). I like walking and plan to continue doing it as my main commute until I can afford to replace the bicycle which was stolen from me earlier this year. I am also not particularly driven to make friends any time soon (if ever) because I seem to get so much more of what I want to accomplish done on my own than I do alongside other people. Also, not enough people seem to value what I value for me to want to ingratiate myself any more than I have to in order to “earn my keep”. I also think there is little I can do other than publish content on the web for a public audience in terms of helping to effect the change I wish to see in society (because most people seem too close-minded, impatient, and stubbornly set in their ways to take what I have to say seriously). I accept that the human species may go extinct within a thousand years from now and that intellectual and humanitarian progress may get erased and forgotten about due to pervasive censorship and threat of violent persecution, et cetera. Rather than base my meaning in life on having to make the human species immortal and always evolving to a more intelligent form, I decided to base my life’s meaning on personal development and individualistic spirituality almost exclusively. To be precise, almost all of sense of value in continuing to exist comes from me intending to pursue a deeper understanding of what constitutes the natural world, to create works of art I find to be inspiring and worth my investment in bringing to fruition, and to consume works of art which other people have created which I think are worthy of my time and energy to consume.
Not to sound dramatic, but I noticed that I seem to be the target of intense “fit shaming” from people who seem to want to normalize (and even enforce) people being too busy, too downtrodden, and too indebted to doing their civic duty to eat as healthy as I would prefer and to be as physically fit as I would prefer to be. According that that “moral majority”, I deserve to be punished and stripped of what I consider to be unconditional human rights for the “crime” of being more intensively invested in “self care” than those people want me to be. It seems that, in order to get paid any money at all, those people think I ought to give up some of my health and happiness (and visibly so) as penance in exchange for that money. (To cope with feeling ostracized, ganged up, stolen from, lied to, and otherwise penalized by other people, I sometimes pretend that I am a member of a more civilized, technologically advanced, and better educated country such as Sweden or Estonia while I do my best to not upset the poor, unfortunate, brainwashed Americans in my midst). It may be the case that, for as long as I live in America, I will never make friends my age because I will be prevented from doing so by the jealous and anti-health and anti-intellectual guardians of a “misery loves company” status quo.
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