Jan 16 ‘19

So I sit here on my ‘Lecher’ couch 😆, listening to some wicked DnB. I think it’s from Concord Dawn and the trac is called ‘Exposure’. I remember listening to that song at the net cafe near my house years ago.

There was this net cafe on the Main Street. It was run by some really old Korean man. I don’t know how he makes a profit. I still don’t. It’s like $2 for half an hour.

I don’t remember for what I went there, when I used to live nearby. I remember that the house in which I lived was going to be sold. It was a two storey all brick house that was built in the 1990s. Originally when I moved in, there were 6 other people living in the house. Comparing it to the apartment on Jane St I lived in – it was Heaven. So much more spacious!

One of the problems was the Eritrean (or Ethiopian?) guy who lived in the room beside mine. He was vexing. He was often on his cell phone, talking loudly, in his language I didn’t understand. He did something to piss off the landlord and so he was moved to one of the rooms in the basement. One day he was talking so loud on his cellphone in his basement room, I could hear him from my room all up on the second floor. I think his voice was carrying through the vent.

I don’t understand why Africans talk so loudly. It’s vexing!!! Some idiots will say “It’s their culture!” – usually Leftist White cucks. It’s not their culture: it’s a tradition. Probably a tradition of speaking loudly – as a way of dominating others. Totally unacceptable. I will not allow myself to be dominated in such a way – or maybe not at all. I’m an ‘anarchist’ anyways. I even hate managers and supervisors so much that I refuse to work other than be self-employed!

Jan 15 ‘19

So I sit here in my pampered glory: I’ve had my post-gym shower, slathered on moisturizer. I hope someone is glad I’m writing my Blog today. If not an alive person – then hopefully a spirit or spirits. That reminds me: my friend called me today, but I ignored the call. He hung up after a few rings – it didn’t go to voicemail. It’s my intent to kind of ignore his calls (he’s not in trouble or anything, just sayin’) for several reasons. I’ll try to list all of them. As a ‘Yogi’, I follow my Inner Intent. It’s not really my Inner Intent to take his phone calls, because he’s a bad influence. He’s a bad influence in the way that he’s kind of an alcoholic. Like I remember the last time I spoke with him, he sounded tipsy. He even asked me to go to the Beer Store and pick up some beer for him (and have it at my place). Number one: what did he do at the Beer Store so that he’s not allowed to buy beer for himself there? Number two: I told him several times I don’t allow booze in my apartment. It will get me addicted and then I will start having mental images (thoughts) of the Beer Store, and then I’ll be going ever day to bring beer home. I wouldn’t like that. It would drain my bank account of what little money I have, and make me feel guilty for drinking, and cause me to gain weight and make me slothful at home when I should be doing marketing things.

There was some sexy guy outside the No Frills panhandling tonight. He was aggressive because when I told him I didn’t have any change, he cursed at me under his breath. That was on the way into the grocery store. On the way out, he did the same, and in addition he kind of spat in my direction. I didn’t really care because I used to be a spitter – but then I got charged with assault when I was intoxicated. Ever sense then, I’ve been wary of ‘assaultness’. People consider spitting assault. In my opinion – that’s crazy. Anyways, I would rather not get into any fights because I wear glasses and it seems that every time I got into a fight in the past, my glasses have flown off my face. I don’t have the income right now to afford glasses. Also, there’s the stupid potential to be charged with assault if I get into a fight. I think my society is too strict about assault. Maybe I should join a boxing club. That might suit me.

Jan 14th ‘19

So yeah – I’m back from the gym as usual. It is necessary that I go every day (except one day a week) so I can lose my belly fat. I fucking gained the belly fat from a mixture of taking an anti-psychotic drug and addiction to whiskey. The anti-psychotic drug was just bullshit – the reason I was taking it was because I got drunk one night and flipped out on the subway. I was then charged with punching two guys and a death threat(s). I don’t feel bad about what I did – probably not much remorse. Minus the drunk bit – I don’t think I was drunk anyway, just pissed at the social wrongs in Toronto – the reason I got so angry was several fold. Up to that point, my life had been improving gradually. The Catch 22 was, I had entered a point of Spiritual Elevation where it became very difficult to not notice the Bumptiousness and Self-Deprecation of people. I am a self-professed Yogi. I learned Hatha Yoga and Mindfulness Mediation at age 14 and for the 5 years after that I was diligent at practising. During that time I developed an awful case of Sore Throat. To help myself during that period, I picked up Barbara Brenna’s ‘Hands of Light’ and ‘Light Emerging’ books. I believed they helped me get better. Then came college at age 19, and for 3 years I stopped meditating and doing yoga to focus on my studies. Then afterwards I’ve been heavily in the Chakras, Human Energy Field, Haric Line, and Core Star.

Anyways – as a White person, I was very frustrated with the tradition of insolence, bumptiousness, and intimidation among Black people in Toronto. Bumptiousness is like when you believe that you are better than you actually are. At that time in my life, I could sense keenly whether or not someone was Bumptious – and most of the time it was Black women. They carried themselves with a haughty manner. With High Sense Perception, Bumptiousness made the person’s Aura smell and emit an irritating pitchy sound. It is characterized by an Insalurbious Ketheric Template Body and an overractive 7th Chakra (IP). The solution to Bumptiousness is simply to strengthen your Critical Thinking abilities – rather than resorting to creating unrealistic positive thoughts about yourself whenever you feel your sense of self is threatened. So, I know that I wouldn’t have flipped out at this lady if I hadn’t had any booze. I simply want to point out that booze was not the only factor in the charges. In addition to the Bumptiousness of the lady and my inebriation, another problem was that I was stuck with trying to be extra perfect at work. The reason I had the two pints after work was because I was stressed out for having to have acted so perfect. And I want to stress that I only had 2 pints of beer. This indicates the underlying social problem in Toronto of Leftist White people assuming that Black people have low self-esteem, and then coddling them and spoiling them with praise because of that inaccurate belief and generalization of Black people. Then the Black people get used to the amount of praise, and then cry ‘racism’ when they don’t get it. Whatever. Also, at that point in my life I was also pretty unhappy with my living situation at home. It took me 90 minutes one way on transit to get to work, and where I lived was a predominantly Black neighbourhood (so I felt out of place). In addition, the people I lived with spoke a language I didn’t understand, and the apartment I lived in was overpopulated (4 or 5 people to a 2 bedroom apartment). So what happened was, because I was inebriated, I mouthed off to the Black Bitch and told her to “Shut up”. Then this stupid-ass Chink grabbed me and said something to me (like ‘don’t do that’ or ‘be nice’, or something like that). Because I was inebriated, I punched him because he grabbed me, and then I tried to get away from the scene by heading down the subway train. In the act, I saw this Ethiopian guy and he pissed me off because of how well he was dressed. It made me feel angry that he got to dress like that when I just had a few measly clothes at my place and all I made was minimum wage at a job I hated. So I punched him in the head. I really don’t understand why people are so against assault – it’s like one of the worst things ever to them. They get their knickers in a twist over it. It’s crazy. I fucking think that people overreact about assault. Really. You could just grab someone lightly and then they’ll be like “you were assaulting me” or some bullshit like that. Yeah, another reason I punched the Ethiopian guy was because of the inequality in the job market here in Toronto. We have an out-dated ‘equal opportunity’ bullshit where when you apply for a job online (or maybe offline too), if you’re a non-White, you get preferential treatment in the hiring process. It’s totally unfair. I’m sure that law has made many White people in Toronto bitter, and also led to the ‘White flight’ that we’ve experienced. So becaues I was so bellicose on the subway that night (in addition to doing what I’ve already said I did, I continued to yell at the Black lady all the way down the subway car), I got apprehended at the last subway stop (I had to go there anyways). I should have gotten off at the previous stop and made a run for it, but I was too satisfied with my rant that I didn’t notice the stop. Yeah, so I got charged with some offences, and then I got a lawyer, and the next best thing other than a trial and pleading guilty and going to jail – was something called a ‘mental health diversion’. At the time, I thought I got off pretty sweet – no one wants to go to jail, and the thought of a Trial terrified me – but as part of the deal they (my lawyer and the psychiatrist and social worker) expected me to take some drugs. That was one of the worse things. I took one drug called ‘respiridone’ – and it was awful. I believe it’s an ‘anti-psychotic’. The reason the doctor put me on it was because I divulged that I was suspicious of him and the social worker. I was just being honest. BAD MISTAKE. Respiridone has partially ruined my life. It made me gain weight, and turned me into a zombie. I lost my ability to smile. I lost my thoughts. My mind became a blank sheet. Even now, I don’t have the same intensity of thoughts I used to. Now, my thoughts are dulled down. I really should have pretended to take respiridone. He even presecribed me an anti-depressant – I wasn’t depressed, and an anti-anxiety pill (used to counteract any anxiety from withdrawing from alcohol – it didn’t work).

So the point of my story is – try to avoid anti-psychotic medication as much as possible. It can ruin your life. I used to have actual feelings of happiness and joy before I took respiridone, and now all my feelings are kind of dull and mushed together. I used to delight at the sound of the birds chirping outside my bedroom window, but after respiridone I just didn’t care. The dullness of my feelings caused by the drug made me upset to the point of becoming addicted to whisky to re-gain some kind of semblance of normal feelings I used to feel prior to that awful drug. Respiridone removed my ambition to clean my room – to sweep my floor and mop it. It removed my ambition to floss my teeth. It removed my ambition to go across the street and do my laundry. It removed my ability to smile. Awful. I believe he misdiagnosed me and should have never diagnosed me with ‘psychosis’. I don’t care what anyone thinks or says about it – it’s probably, most likely some lame excuse to overpower me, subdue me, and control me due to your evil inclinations. I’m actually sick and tired of the whole ‘mental health’ field, and aptly believe that for the most part it is misused to humiliate people, ruin and damage their reputations, or to make them incapacitated from psychotropic drugs.

Jan 13 ‘19

So I didn’t write an entry yesterday because I got drunk. Nothing to boast about. I followed my Inner Intent and took the fucking goddamn streetcar from Long Branch along Queen all the way to Pape or Carlaw or something. By the time I reached Pape, I was either fuming inside or was very bored – I can’t remember. In any case, my emotion(s) were so intense that I had to exit the streetcar (because my original Intent was to go all the way to the Beach) and go to this attractive-looking pub across the street called ‘The Thirsty’ -somethingorother. The pint of beer I had was AMAZING. It was a dark beer. I don’t remember the name – but I may go back there and check. I spoke with this red-haired lady Bartender. She was kinda snarly – but I kept up conversation with her. I don’t see the point of being a Bartender and ignoring your customers. I mean – the Bartender IS THERE TO TALK TO. So we had a conversation about Russia – which was where her parents were from. Like me, her parents emigrated to Toronto and she lived here all her life. I feel bad about having relapsed and had a drink – but I DIDN’T KNOW THAT I WAS GOING TO RELAPSE. I didn’t know that the trip from Long Branch to that place in the Beach would have taken THAT LONG. Next time, I’m taking the subway. It gets worse. When I arrived at my neighbourhood – I went to the bar near my house and HAD TWO PINTS. I’m not supposed to drink ANY ALCOHOL. My money situation is very bad right now and I shouldn’t be spending it on booze.

Jan 11th 2019

So I sit at home with my comfy Christmas sweater on. It’s a grey sweater from the GAP my sister bought me. Went to the gym this evening as usual – have to get my body as sexy as possible for potential hook-ups. Bought some baby carrots to eat tomorrow to promote my eye health.

There’s some guy who lives down the hall who has been milling about today. He left his door open and his place looks cluttered to me. Also, this morning there were two umbrellas near the elevators. One was propped up on this railing thing near the window, and the other was on the bench in the hallway. There was also some electrical crap on the hallway floor. Someone wrote something more in pink marker on the wall, that ended in “Go Away”. The previous thing that was written was “Eat Me”. I assumed that one of my previous hook-ups wrote that on the wall in response to ‘CRAZY MAN’’s yelling. (There is this strange middle aged man who lives near there, and it seems that every night after 10pm he yells stuff in his foreign language. I’ve called security on him at least twice now).

Jan 10th

So today I went to the gym. I know I may start my Blogs with that quite often – however the gym is a huge deal in my life. It’s amazing that I only pay about $10 per month for it – but if it weren’t for the gym I’d probably be some fatass, lying on my bed, drinking a whole mickey of whisky and watching Coronation Street. I’d just end up getting fatter and fatter and more disgusted with myself. Thank God that’s not me.

Some people at the gym don’t work as hard as I do. I get on the elliptical and push it for an hour. I’m so grateful now that I’m not working for someone else, I have the time to dedicate an hour to my cardio. I used to only do half an hour. I’m really looking forward to having a flat belly. It takes months to obtain a flat belly. I don’t care what you say or what kind of stupid-ass link you send me with some hunky model guy demonstrating sit-ups: I DON’T CARE. My gym routine works for me.

BTW I didn’t go to the gym yesterday. I was too tempted to have a drink before or after if I went – so I chose not to go.