Saturday, July 27, 2019

Schrodinger's Cat: Rationalizations of an Existentialist (Part 17: Final Exit Strategist)

I know I'm writing this a day early, but after ending last night in utter desperation, I better try to extinguish my angst before it consumes my entire 16-hour work day.

Where my head is at right now, this maybe the last plea for assistance in producing "Main Event of the Dead," my Troma-quality concept about never-would-be wrestlers accepting the challenge (and the gratuitous nudity opening credit sequence) of facing undead grapplers with ridiculous, border line offensive gimmicks.

It must solely be me that this concept has no support. Wrestlers should always ask about work, but no one has asked. Surely there are some film nerds in Peoria (why am I limiting myself when I'm suppose to have "friends" from the Iowa border to Ohio's, Minnesota to Cairo [Illinois]) who want to work on something that isn't a documentary. But, I totally incompatible with the world as I recently found out, so maybe I am the only person who thinks this is worthwhile. The seven know that I am the only one who believes that. Or at least I did.

It seems my honesty is not only unappreciated, but criminal.

Rationalization 52: You're Not Wrong, Only an Asshole Would Think That.

Society does not want to just fuck the dissenters, they want to do it in the most uncomfortable way.

I'm looking for any escape from my depression any chance I can do something I love. But because I wrote something about how it is wrong celebrating a bad wrestling promotion (there isn't a WCW tribute promotion), I cannot participate there.

That blog did not insult anyone, it just stated that to act like a promotion with no professionally trained talent made a difference in the business disrespects the business I dedicated the most in the area towards.

But, everyone took it personal it seems.

In 2006, I seemed to be the only person who cared about the well being of friend with a heroin addiction. She thought (and was right) that I would pay for heroin addiction until she was ready to quit. Even as I went bankrupt, I could not criticize her for not being ready. Or could I criticize her for all the squatters that came with her and stole from me. And in the end, she got cleaned up for a dead beat.

To be more fair, she got cleaned to have a child. If raising and loving that child is her sole purpose for being, I have to respect that. I have to respect her more than the person who triggered why I'm trying to determine whether or not I can end it all before or after I get full-time employee benefits at my current job.

Last night, I caught up with a friend who is planning to put her wants ahead of her family. She seemed pretty dedicated to going through with her plan since. When I stated my opinion that she was gambling the state of her family, she constantly insulted me to ignore reason.

But I had to try to tell her to at least consider the right route to take. I did it without insulting her, I just told why I and how I think the action she wanted to take is just an escape. Still, I knew her well enough that she may chastise me and cost me our friendship and my relationship with her family. If I did not attempt to get her to think things through, how could I live with myself?

Rationalization 53: All Good Deeds Will Be Punished.

The problem is that I cannot live with myself. It was the only relationship I had that I thought I should always be able to count on. Someone I should always be able to contact when I am down and visa versa.

Should I have considered the lack of the friendship commodity before I acted? Maybe I had too much faith she would understand I was trying to be supportive of her, not her plan.

My family may care, but they have not believed in me since I decided to head for a career in entertainment. Damn near half of them tell me my problem is being myself, and last night was further verified that the positive opinion would be filibustered. I have a handful of friends, but circumstances dictate that they cannot be that close with me.

I feel alone with a lack of feedback and a lack of support for what I want to do. I do have another route to pitch to my family, but after being told by every other person who cares (or thought they cared) that I am incapable of succeeding or being liked, what's the point?

Maybe I just have poor taste because I like who I am. Sadly, I do not think I can be that I can be happy on my own. Sarte said, "Hell's being stuck in a room with your friends." At least he was implying some variety.

So I either need a fool proof "Final" exit strategy or multiple personality disorder.

Or a lot more cats, enough to inadvertently smother me. Then again, that will further the cats are assholes concept.

I cannot do anything right.
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