{∅, {∅}, {∅, {∅}}} : Rage Against the Meat Grinder

I found this difficult to answer.   I would not mind never having been born, but my body wants to breathe, recover, heal, etc.

Isn't it only a matter of time that we will die right now?

While I do appreciate our communications here (an understatement), may each of you be released from the redundant cycle soon.

In the meantime, may your current resignation give you a sense of relief.   At least you have already learned not to want life.

I had suffered from heat exhaustion yesterday, out alone in the "gardens"  (we have zucchinni already).  Fortunately I was out there alone and had the privacy to crawl behind a shed into a thin sliver of shade.   I took off sneakers, socks, and shirt, then proceeded to roll on the grass, digging my fingers into the cool dirt until I calmed down enough to breathe easy and just rest.  I felt like I was dying.  I felt my skeleton on the earth.  My bones want to return to the devil.    I thought of math notes and computer programs I've accumulated over these past four years, and I felt my heart saying, "Although my work is not yet done, if this is it, if I am done, maybe my mother can get my notes/work/code to some publisher who might revive the Dolciani series with my computer programs in C++ (along with Sage and SymPy computer algebra systems).   I'll never know if anyone will ever receive or appreciate the work I've done."

I actually thought I was dying, and I was glad no one was out there.  I was glad I did not have a phone.   I felt like an animal crawling in the shade to die in peace.

Before it is over, maybe we all will be begging for death's warm embrace!

A car drove into the gardens, and so I, out of embarrassment (the nerve of me for crawling into the shade to die or sleep!), got myself to my feet and shuffled along out of there.   When I got back to the domicile I crawled into a tub and ran cold water over the back of my head until I felt revived.  When I could stand, I showered with hot water (to get any ticks/blood-suckers off my skin - especially under the scrotum, the armpits, those places the little fuuckers like to feed from).

Again, fortunately the Mother was not home, so I had the privacy to actually "suffer my agony in peace."    The last thing I want in such a situation is a "ride to the hospital."   Leave me alone ... let me sweat it out and maybe sleep it off.   When I am dying, I want to die alone in privacy.   What's up with sending in a priest?   


The bottom line?    It would have been cool were I have died, but not for my mother who depends on me.

Senor
Evil is very real.It is no abstraction.
It is the most real thing there is.
I came across a movie called The Natural and I was reminded of Herr Kaspar.The young man of 19 is immensely talented in all sorts of ways and because of no reason at all he is shot in the gut many times..

Scores of Holdens appear and disappear and Nature merely looks at it all with stony eyes.
To be shot in the gut for no reason at all...well, that's what life is about.

I really thank Devil that now I am one day closer to my death.What absurdity it all seems to be.

My father treats me in an okayish manner these days. Once ,I must have been 12 then,
we were traveling through a forest in a car( mum,dad and I).
I was suffering from cough and cold and was being reluctant to take medication for some reason I don't quite remember.Just being stubborn maybe.
Anyway,my father said to me that I had better take the meds and get well soon ,and if I didn't take meds and deteriorated,well ,they don't have the time to foster me back to health.They will dump me/my body (if I died of sickness) right there in the middle of the wilderness and go about their business as usual.
I was not even a teenager then and possessed no philosophical knowledge as you can guess.
I felt incredibly hurt then but looking back at the incident I think he did me a world of good in that he let me know my worth to me quite early in life.
Now, I no longer care.Like Herr Kaspar,I would love to crawl to a dark corner and die.

Senor Raul,

https://www.gmanetwork.com/news/news/world/436415/pope-francis-decision-not-to-have-children-is-selfish/story/

I guess their beloved Jesus was selfish too then.

To demonize those who make a conscious decision not to procreate stinks of dishonesty.

It is the same kind of maddening dishonesty which accounts for the denial of their own inherent misery.

Scenario:  Approaching a community grill with ground beef, preparing to cook ground beef "hamburgers," a couple asks me how I am doing.   My initial knee-jerk response is, "Oh, alright, I guess ... if I were more honest, I would say I am miserable."

They both appear concerned, "Why? What's wrong?"

"It's just the human condition, I suppose."

Silence.

A depressing mood begins to germinate, the kind of moods a Schopenhauer or a Cioran must have been in whenever they were inspired to articulate "how they were doing."

Why do you think so few people are open and up front about the true nature of "how they are doing?"   

The older I get, the more clear it becomes that to expect honesty from other people in such matters to to set oneself up to be tormented by compulsive liars.

What bullies they are to demand we ignore our own experience!

Maybe it is best that I am unable to articulate my disgust and disillusionment with life.   

No wonder an honest man is always in trouble.   The confederacy of liars will band together to mock the ones with enough confidence to call this life out for what it is.