Outbursts of a Professional Lowlife; Thoughts of a Sober Barfly

Baethan Balor

Description

Infanticide and splendor.
I observed no human face other than my own and corresponded with no one this Christmas.

Sujets

• Social Science
• Sociologie, société et politique
• Outburst
• Low-life
• Pretentious
• Professional
• Antisocial personality disorder
• Thought
• Privileged
• Sober
• White
• Balor
• Barfly

Informations

• Publié par: iUniverse
• Date de parution: 26 septembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781663242310
• Langue: English

Extrait

OUTBURSTS OF A PROFESSIONAL LOWLIFE; THOUGHTS OF A SOBER BARFLY (YEAR FIVE)



BAETHAN BALOR








OUTBURSTS OF A PROFESSIONAL LOWLIFE; THOUGHTS OF A SOBER BARFLY (YEAR FIVE)


Copyright © 2022 Baethan Balor.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.






iUniverse
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.iuniverse.com
844-349-9409

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6632-4232-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6632-4231-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022913132



iUniverse rev. date: 09/26/2022



CONTENTS
November
December
January
February
March
April
May
June
July
August
September
October
November













Dedicated to my Ego, Self, and I.













“Look not mournfully into the past, it comes not back again. Wisely improve the present, it is thine. Go forth to meet the shadowy future without fear and with a manly heart.”
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow













Entities are documented to the best of my truth. Errors in spelling, punctuation, grammar, and syntax are fundamental. The reader is a fool.



NOVEMBER



Friday, November 20 th , 2020
3:09 PM
Journals are self-indulgent.
There will be no dissertations, self-effacements, or highfalutin opinions. There will be stories of men and women.
5:35 PM
Every activity I engage in is sexually-oriented despite a revulsion for copulation, for what the act symbolizes, even with due consideration and application of contraceptives: Proliferation of suffering, i.e., antinatalism. To covet another’s flesh without reproductive intent is a puerile ambition, just as one who dies unfettered without direct posterity remains a child their entire life.
I’m already dissertating a highfalutin opinion with a self-effacing consequence. A story, yes… A story:
A man and a woman of nondescript appearance deemed each other to be of worthy value to-
Ah— but fiction is merely an opinion.
“I don’t judge people,” said a highbrow socially enlightened globalist, “But I can already tell this book isn’t worth my time.”
Saturday, November 21 st , 2020
12:03 AM
Many people don’t think. When I ask, “What is your self-assigned meaning in life?” and I receive answers such as “I don’t have one”; “I’m just here to chill out”; and “I don’t understand your question,” the immensity of the lack of thought is evident.
Runner-ups: “To take care of my family”; “Don’t die”; “Drink this beer.” I’ve discerned hundreds of life meanings over the past five years, and only one answer, spoken to me by a young Caucasian man in the U.S. Navy separations division, impressed me: “To feel the full spectrum of human emotion and to help those I meet to cope with their physical and mental ailments.”
At my local gym, I gazed at a poster of the human muscular system on the wall of a cycling room and recalled my time reading Modern Man In Search of a Soul by Carl Jung. I stood before the poster in the same pose represented and saw a simulacrum of myself in the flesh.
Psychology is a weapon disguised as medicine employed on ourselves and others, i.e., a substitution for shamanism. To refrain from preaching my ignorance is difficult; I feel compelled to reiterate my condemnation of applied psychology, though I perform my own microcosmic uncontrolled studies and observations daily, and consume the information published by others concerning the field. To love what you hate.
12:51 AM
The greatest weakness of psychology is that the more one understands their own animalistic behavior in conjunction with learned virtues and shame, the easier the process is of adaptation to the values of a new self-understanding: A creature supersedes the human.
2:34 AM
A creature. I will lay my thoughts bare to this template throughout a gentle, unique moment of anhedonia accompanied by ataraxy.
Sickness pervades me. I experience no emotion except for unyielding indifference. My life is of no value. My respect for others is a mere diddling just as I judge a reader (who judges me) to be a fool. Others are keen to lay bare their proclamations of respect, to shake and hold a hand—pull it close, squeeze…
I wonder what I’ve lost along the way, on the fringe of the American Dream. To dither between the earthly realm of man and the fabrications of my mind presents a presumably eternal dilemma if the cyclic rebirth of life and consciousness is truth.
Considering this is a new book and that this material may one day be heeded by an unfortunate, another introduction is in order:
I have no friends by choice. This moment, I would be content to die a relatively moderate death with equal parts pain and encapsulated life reflection—though this is a digression—yes, so-
I’m a man of no particular quality. 6'1, 168 lbs, predominantly Welsh, Scottish, and White British heritage (Englishman), lean and muscular physique, one-inch blonde hair often styled with a scruffy backward sweep by a modicum of product, faded blue-gray eyes, a face… a face, often deemed handsome by many: A baby-face, though this is my profound meretricious impingement that impairs me with reactions unbecoming of my reticent character compounded with an unorthodox appearance of undeviating black dress clothes, boots, and simple wool jacket, carried with a severe mien wholly removed from North American culture.
I don’t understand people, for our frailties, desires, morality, bestial modes, political schemes, philanthropy, and lust. I never learned to drive a vehicle out of lack of want or need. I’m unemployed and $2,000 in debt—soon to be $4,500 once I purchase a service from my vanity publisher for my previous book. I’m disciplined and prioritize my health by enacting a structured lifestyle to ensure the daily production of my thoughts. Besides this, I read… too much reading, and watch internet videos of human-to-human violence. My only social stimulus is the few members of the gym I attend for nightly two-hour-long strength-training sessions seven days a week, and mobs of drunkards outside the sleaziest dive bar in my city of residence by the parking lot that I pass through on my route back to my second-floor apartment at the nexus of Glens Falls, New York.
Sunday, November 22 nd , 2020
12:44 AM
I encountered a thirty-one-year-old Caucasian man named Joshua at the gym. I was once acquainted with Joshua three years ago when I worked at a grocery store as a maintenance associate. Our hour-and-a-half-long conversation revealed a mind of similar disenchantment; this is a common recurrence the more men of my age that I speak to.
Joshua’s self-assigned meaning in life is, “Take it day by day,” and he prides himself on his ability to dissimulate.
On my return home from the gym with a load of groceries in my U.S. Navy-issued recruit backpack, I listened to my recording of the conversation. Noteworthy statements:
1. “I’ve always been fascinated by people to see me for what they want me to be instead of who I actually am.”
2. “We all have dark thoughts and if I can pretend to be something to make someone’s day a little better I’ll do it.”
3. “I’m negative because the world expects you to fail. We’re built into wanting to be selfish.”
4. “I got to the part of life where I wanted to kill myself and went to get help; it’ s really interesting—they put you on pills for anxiety and depression, and the pills—the only thing they do is mess with your brain so you’re not able to access that part of your brain. I got off the pills, told myself like—dude, fuck it. Live your life; life the best way you can until you’re fifty. If you don’t like it, fuckin’ go. I’m thirty-one so it’ s almost close to my deadline but I’ll see it through.”
Joshua enjoys telling boring and mundane stories about his life with slight alterations to entertain the people he converses with. Slight details impact the meaning.
I said, “If you have an opinion that you would like to express then you will change the story just to suit your viewpoint; if you’re telling a story of yourself and you alter details, you may either make yourself [generally] more grandiose or humble.”
Joshua said, “It’ s a little bit of both.”
“In my writing I alter nothing; every banal detail is accounted for in excruciating truth. To lie to myself would render my life’s meaning void. The basis of our between-sets conversation had been ignorant posits and regurgitation of ingested media.
The modern church of psychiatry is a bane to freedom when people are told that their thoughts are not conducive to society. We’re informed that depression and anxiety are unnatural states to be cured rather than contended with. “Schizophrenia,” “bi-polar,” “borderline,” “socio/psychopath,” “obs