Monday, March 31, 2008

I'm covered in filth, cowardness and shame.

Well it goes like this :

Dear 19Bernard,

I am presently "working" as a security agent.
I am not writing to complain or anything, just to share my thoughts and my present mental state with another entity.
My job is not very complicated. It implies waiting for 8 to 10 hours, standing, and smiling to people while trying to keep my dignity by not bursting in tears or screaming to death or shitting my pants and throwing my shit at the very people I'm supposed to smile at. I've managed to keep my dignity until now. But it is not an easy feat. Because as a security agent, pretty much everyone hates you. The people you're supposed to keep secure hate you, the clients hate you, your colleages hate you, and your suppervisor hates you. It is thus difficult to remain in a state of peace and mental serenity. In fact, unless you are a mahatma or have down syndrome, you will sooner than later give in to the dark side.
I've managed not to let myself be overwhelmed by all the hatred so to not become an anal zombie like most of my colleagues. To do this I've found an interesting and very effective way which has help me so far to remain mentally sound, or at least not to give in to psychopathologies, well at least not psychopathologies that are expressed through the concrete and real killing of others. I have not killed others and do not intend to. But I did indeed killed them in thoughts. That is how I do it.
That is how I keep from leaving on the killing spree and ultimately ending up to the nuthouse prison.
You see, for example there's this guy. He's a short guy. He's very fat. His breath smells like death and his eyes speak of malicious stupidity that encompasses the full spector of disgust. This fat flobby short guy needs friends and so tries his best to start a witty conversation with anyone and will come close enough to your face that you can feel his breath, taste it. I dealt with this guy not by leaving in the opposite direction as anyone would have done on the spot, because I could not.
I dealt with him by killing him, in thoughts. And I've found a very specific way of killing him. And this method has worked so fine for me that I've decided to apply it to every other lump of shit of an agent that would dare to come close to me.
For instance that other anal douche of a Paki guy that was ordering me around as if I was his fucking Paki bitch deserved a special treatment. What I did was I elbowed him in the face, (I always start with that, or a good head butt, anything that will stun my opponent to the ground, leaving his face covered in blood and horrified surprise) and once he was lying on the ground, I'd tie his arms to the side of his body, and tie his legs together, and turn him so he's facing the floor. Now what I'd do to put an end to his stinking existence would be to take his feet and bring them back as far as possible over his head that I would have kept still by standing on it with a foot, in such a way that his spine would break in two, and maybe his stomach would be teared open because of the stretch and his inners would spill out.
That really made me feel good. I imagined this specific scenario about 10 times every hours and it made me feel relieved. In fact I was even hoping to see the man so as to bring more details to my imaginary scene.
What I did to the short flobby and disgusting human was more simple. I elbowed him in the face and while he was lying on the floor screaming in pain while holding on his bleeding nose, I would just jump on his face, feet joined, until his face would cave in. I could even hear the bones cracking.
Pretty neat. And then what I did to the other bitch was... uh? what? oh, you dont want to hear it? oh... ok. Thank you anyways. Thanks for listening dear blog, you're such a good friend, I treasure your friendship, and hope we will always be there for each other. I love you 19bernard.

7 comments:

Master of the Craw said...

I used to have a job at an insurance company where I had to man the phones at night in case some asshole got sick outside of Canada and needed emergency assistance.

I was much happier when I bought a gameboy.

Barbarosa said...

I found the source of your problems Shipwreck. And I think it will be much more effective than a gameboy.

Your problem isn't your job, your co-workers, your co-humans, or even yourself! The root of your mental cancer is poor grammar.

i.e.,

«But I did indeed killed them in thoughts.» see But I did indeed kill them in thoughts.

«And this method has worked so fine for me » see And this method has worked so well for me.

«maybe his stomach would be teared open» see maybe his stomach would tear open.

«I imagined this specific scenario about 10 times every hours» see I imagined this specific scenario about 10 times every hour.

I'm sure if you mastered correct grammar, everything would work out.

No, you don't have to thank me for being such a great, supportive friend.

Dementor said...

I didnt cared, because of the hospital had calls me and me be doing work there in soon time!
me so happy I can crying.

Karl Hungus said...

Also, in your title you mention "cowardness". This is not a real word. The real word is "cowardice".

cow·ard·ice [kou-er-dis]

–noun
lack of courage to face danger, difficulty, opposition, pain, etc.

—Synonyms: pusillanimity, timidity.
—Antonyms: bravery.

C-O-W-A-R-D-I-C-E

Barbarosa said...

S-H-I-P-W-R-E-C-K

Dementor said...

Me is very thank you for makes it itter outter.

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