This is another one of those triumphant tragedy days that could probably just be a triumphant day if they would just stop making the tragedies. I don’t really think this is too complicated to get out. It’s just another one of these reports that’s to disgusting to even think about. They really never learn anything.

So this morning started out pretty good. I had an appetite and took the trouble to go have a nice breakfast. I have set some rules of reasonableness on myself about calorie intake. Just a bowl of yesterday’s but heated up and with hot tea because it was a little cold this morning. I had actually been up since about 2:00 in the morning. I think one of these posts was written during the night. I hope it was a good one.

It’s not that I’m worried about losing my mind or noticing that I’m coming unglued, it’s just I can’t figure out why they enjoy hurting me so much. Oh, I understand that they have decided that they don’t like me. But why did they decide that they didn’t like me?

Back when I lived in town, I had a great relationship with Zhenna and Vika one of the bicycle couples at the market. Say what you want about work giving you an opportunity to stay away from your partner, you have to hand it to people with family businesses who learn to get along so well together for years at a time. Truly nice people. I’ve been to their home many times which itself is a pretty decent bike ride. And those Wheels. Wow, those last racing wheels.

Then one day, I was there and talking about something and there were a lot of people there. This was kind of during covid and I was well masked up and I really didn’t want to be touched by anybody but, suddenly people were asking me my opinions about certain things and as I was talking there were some kind of sinister people sort of looking. Maybe they were people looking in a sinister way. Maybe all I need to say is that they struck me as sinister. Well, it’s belarus, right? Suddenly, Zhen is uncomfortable around me.

I’m starting to think of exactly how many times these little backstabbings have happened to me. I could write it here or write it somewhere else and figure that that’s the new book! All of this utopian stuff that makes you feel good and think of how to make a better world, that’s the stuff you say fuck you get out of my house. If I am Mozart, everybody wants to be Salieri. Could I do 20 chapters? Maybe. But some of them really hurt.

Now it seems that every time them comes to see me, Quasimodo needs to talk to him. Apparently, people like screwing his mind when he’s doing his job. It’s an amazing thing about screwing people’s minds. It makes them really upset and puts pressure on them and makes them do really stupid things.

Like for example. I don’t really think I could count or quantify the amount of energy that he himself took from me today. Absolutely meaningless conversation of any kind. But then there’s this thing that bears so much similarity to my ex partner it’s just crazy. It’s so crazy let’s just call it general alcoholism. Or they’re just zombies you know.

He showed up supposedly because I asked him to do one more watering. He was of course late. An interesting thing though, how anxious I was about my health and my abilities in the morning turned out to be not so needed by the time I got to the opening of the gate business. I felt pretty good and I could get around without crutches. My shoulders are still screwed and my wrists ache. But overall, I really wanted to go water in my plants.

I turned on the system and picked up the hose and tried to do the standard watering but suddenly the hose was wrong. Someone had screwed up the hose system. I’d explained it pretty clearly that if you just leave the hoses alone except for their singular jobs, they don’t kink or give you too much problem. It also reaches all parts of the territory with ease and comfort. That was the first thing I had to fix.

The watering was not really bad but he was pretty hard-handed around some flowers he didn’t need to be. Maybe it wasn’t him and it was just my ex partner throttling flowers and thinking that this is the correct way to help them live.

I was doing good work and the balance of the legs were not the problem. This time I just got really tired and had to take two breaks. I guess you can’t just jump out of bed and go back to work like your body functions as it’s supposed to. I took a couple of minutes and then got back at it. But then I found the absolute worst of it.

Do you remember when I told you that I heard him watering like a racehorse and had to tell him twice to put his finger over the nozzle to make a spray. It turns out he chose to horse piss on the pickles and about half of them or smashed two days later.

Let’s cut to the chase. It seems that my neighbors canceled the garbage truck. Why did they cancel the garbage truck? Maybe they’re moving. You wouldn’t really cancel a garbage truck before you moved and they seem to still be here so I don’t like that likelihood. More likely they themselves didn’t need it, and just conveniently forgot that I was trying to collect garbage from the forest. Dim thought that I would sit with him and hold his hand so he wouldn’t be uncomfortable I guess. I recommended that he go away and come back when the garbage truck would come. He went back to sitting with the garbage and moping.

Suddenly he is calling my name. I tried to ignore him but he won’t stop. I told him that I was really tired of being bothered by him and that he should leave me alone. He continued to say that what he had to say was important. I heard these words. He told me that the garbage truck was not coming.

So, this was a good time to unfold the new plan. The job of cleaning up the forest would remain open and perpetual to anyone who wanted to make money cleaning up garbage. Other than that, he did not need to talk to me until next Wednesday when the garbage truck came or he found out what the story was. And then he interrupted me. He actually interrupted me somewhere around don’t talk to me until next Wednesday. But he did interrupt me and told me again that there’s no garbage truck as if I hadn’t understood the words the first time or if the words I said following that weren’t important.

So I took a deep breath and started laying out the plan again. I will pay for every bag of garbage on Wednesday. Throw out the garbage but keep the bag for the next week.

But something snapped. Might have something to do with him getting his pension. It might have to do with the neighbors screwing his head. It might have to do with him sitting like a lonely dog against the fence instead of going somewhere to find out the situation or just telling me, “there is no truck, I’m going home. Will you pay me for this week?” Yes, fuck off, have a great life, see you Wednesday with as many bags as you can gather (With the subtext here that he has never coming through that gate again).

Okay, one bit of philosophical whining just to hear myself talk. The thing about sadomasochist is that they don’t understand that non-satomasochists exist. The problem with power people is that they don’t really understand anything but power nor do they care how much damage they cause in their quest for it. I’m a reasonable man. I’ve been on this planet for a reasonable human lifetime. I know what it feels like to be an American. I know what it feels like to be on the shit end of the stick of so many different situations. I don’t know why anybody thinks I am an easy pushover for anything. Nobody talks to you. Nobody does mutual interest. In every action I have been a part of since I moved here, I can’t stop running into hysterical lonely broke people who believe it’s important to inflict themselves on you without invitation and without genuine reason. I can’t say anything bad about Ria who brought food. I didn’t need her food because I had my own. It was a problem because I didn’t want people giving me food without an invitation. I just take care of myself with what I want when I want it and that’s good enough. If I don’t ask for any help, don’t give me any help. And I do not for any reason tell other people what to do with their free time. I genuinely do not care what people do with their free time as long as they do not go around damaging others or the planet.

I don’t need your advice. I don’t need to know who you are. I don’t want to meet your children. I’m not interested in talking about God. I am not interested in joining the church. I’m not interested really in helping your family. I am not interested in having to stare at you or listen to you cackle and child abuse along the road in front of my house. I don’t want any alcohol or cigarettes. I don’t want any Dead flash and I don’t want any store-bought shit that I don’t personally request. And I don’t need the store and I don’t need the alcoholics who come to the store or the covid that exists inside the store. I don’t need their diseases and I don’t need their attention. There is nothing here for anyone.

Probably right now you’re looking at your watch or thinking of tapping the browser button to get to your favorite porn site. Nobody needs to listen to me whine about how a place that was actually so charming I wanted to drop out of my life for it turns into, well, everything else in the world. It was like I said. When you have an apparatus place that is strong enough to create a vegan Paradise, you of course have the apparatus in place to use your fascism to crush an entire land mass into an unusable desert sewer pit in only the years it took for a new baby country to be born and grow to be about 30.

They say that we are made in God’s image. This is absolutely true but only in some very ancient level in our DNA. Now, God or nature or our planet or even this stupid little country in the center of Europe, looks exactly like its people. Rotten, cancerous, broken and completely in hospital. Dankeschön.

And okay, let me just cover the bullshit excuse. They were quitting me and not the project. Well this is pretty good since I was the project. If they want to just go collect garbage out of the goodness of their heart and they don’t want any connection to me, big thumbs up. I’ll give the money to the church if they want it. But if they just walk away from the garbage that’s there because they have a reason not to do their work, I rest my case.

***

Just a small addendum. Just when I finished these last words I had a rational thought in my head and called dim on the phone. I told him I would pay him for this week’s work if he would come by and take the garbage that is in front of my fence and move it to some place where it can be until it can be put on the garbage truck. After that, I was open to as many bags of garbage he could take from the forest between Sunday and the garbage truck on Wednesday. I also mentioned that he should leave me alone until next Wednesday. And then I asked him why she needed to do that to my pickles but he seemed to understand it already. I can’t guarantee this but he definitely understood that when I finally got up and saw what he did to my pickles that had probably be pretty pissed. It was when he realized he was smashing them that he finally put his thumb over the nozzle.