You workin' hard, bro?
Keeping myself from laughing at the wrong person at the wrong time is a Herculean effort.
Some of you may not understand this: my job is no one's business but mine and my God's. And if a certain group of individuals had minded their own business, I would not have spent the last 6 years spinning my wheels, doing hardly anything that I was called to do.
Now, right there, consider the following: there are people who truly believe that sitting on my ass and getting blasted all day while studying divination is... something I should -not- be able to do. On top of that, it is not thought of as "hard work" when I engage in this opportunity to the extent that I choose for myself to do.
These people are, for lack of any more appopriate phrase, "retarded idiots." Who do you imagine has oversight over what I do with my time and energy? If the answer is "anyone," well, one would do well for themselves to pour themselves a long tall glass of shut the fuck up with a sidecar of piss squirts. It's my life, People--and, it is Actual.
The question of my Federal taxes is a similar issue. I could have been bowled over with a feather, the first time I started seeing thuggy bullies dropping hints and making vaguely threatening hand-gestures towards me. Since all this -never- happened in my entire life, and multiple sources began to display these dogwhistles at about the same time--right after something else happened that didn't seem related to the topic, but could clearly have been a watershed moment when some higher-up mucky-muck might have put out the word: "Threaten Kuczi with an audit! Maybe that will scare them."
I could give a shit about my taxes. Or an audit. Or the I.R.S. I mean, like, duh, the I.R.S. chases everyone. What do I care? What would they want with me? I don't even have anything close to the kind of income or resources that would interest the Internal Revenue Service.
I do have, however, a long history of insulting them in public, whether on the Internet or on the phone or on a bus, I have never had any problem proclaiming proudly... All Taxation Is Theft. Fuck them, and fuck their bullshit policies. Paying taxes--in a legitimate structure, meant to enrich society through common contributions--any citizen should be -glad- for the opportunities to pay tax. Really. I truly believe that.
However in our modern society today, the economy is overtaxed, the revenue is wildly misspent, and the amounts levied upon the differing stratas of society are wholly imbalanced. This is no system for a person to be proud of. This is no time to start finding tiny amount of money held by single individuals and harrassing them over what amounts to pennies.
And now there's you. Asking me if I'm "working hard." :massive rolleyes: Well, that depends. Do you? What do you think of as "hard" work? Because it sounds to me like you don't think writing is hard. Or studying. Or carefully managing the delicate threads of a complex situation in response to wildly varying energies, directed at me from various directions, while I am isolated, persecuted, et cetera.
I am working on matters involving a serious situation that has never existed before. Is that "hard" by itself? Well, it is for me... typically, I like to be able to not be held incommunicado while puny little bitch-ass thugs work behind the scenes to intimidate me with vague and specious threats. Really, just about anything is "hard" under those circumstances.
Also, and this is a big one, the entire world knows my name. "Kuczi." Seems like a simple 5-letter-word, right? Well, it's hard to resist the temptation to simply... HIDE BEHIND A PSEUDONYM LIKE A LITTLE THUGGY BITCH WOULD DO, and you would not believe how some people freak the fuck out, just at the sight of my name. Like, what the fuck? What am I, a digital leper? I guess so.
Now, was it "hard" to write what I just wrote? Not very--but surviving afterwards is probably a little bit harder than it was before, and this is just one thing that I have written. Collectively... I am not surprised that my life required the Divine to grant me various protections, because in spite of the dangers I have brought upon myself by writing almost, but not quite, everything I ever felt like writing and then hitting EXECUTE SUBMIT POST... I still think it is all fucking
totesbeyond absolutely stupid, what is being done.
Consider: I want to talk to someone who wants to talk to me, and not only am I being threatened 24/7 with INCARCERATION if I dare to even do so... who fucking does this kind of shit? Who imagines that they are in a position to even impose that, or even to agree with it? It's fucking stupid. That's what it is. And simultaneously, it is presented to me that I no longer am in position to have any determinacy in the direction of my own life. Supposedly this is something I have consented to be taken away from me, oh really?
No, actually, no. I'll be retaining the autonomy over my own life, thank you very much. I'll also be calmly taking my own sweet-ass time, living in the house I don't need to pay rent on, ALONE, neglecting the landscape maintenance, ABSOLUTELY, drinking beer all night whenever I feel like it, FUCK YEAH, and, do you know why?
I used to, but I've been pushed to such an extreme level of annoyance that I really have forgotten quite a few details about why things are as they are. Everyone has their breaking point, and rather than fall into despair over how unjust this circumstance is--for it is, truly an injustice being perpetrated upon me--I am simply enjoying the ride. Look, it's only a few more weeks, short ones at that, until the circumstance will change! So, why would I wish to be hurried along in any way whatsoever?
The answer is simple. The urgency is nothing to do with my life, and EVERYTHING to do with the projected desires of other people. Well, guess what, they can fuck right off and wait, just like I have been waiting. For months, and years. Decades, even.
You have no idea how long it took me to prepare for these trying times. And I didn't know the half of what was to come. So now that I have been placed into a ridiculous circumstance--without my choice or consent being consulted, mind you--are you seriously suggesting that I -need- to "work" at all? Tell you what, let's imagine that I'm really doing "nothing" with my time. (I do work plenty, Butch.) What exactly is the objection to that? Do you think I need more money? Do I need more work experience? Do I have children to support? Do I need to be a good role model for others? Does the local economy need more skilled labor for industrial purposes?
Should I go down to the library and ask for an application? Dude. What the fuck are you talking about, "hard work," what makes you think I should work any harder than I do? I am literally a workaholic. I ignore all manner of other priorities, especially lately, because I really do enjoy getting things done, I like doing them, and other than sitting and reading, I don't have much available to do until I am exonerated at trial.
Have at it.
You know what the hardest part of my work is these days is? Holding back the tears when I think about where my grill went.
p.s.: You know all that is bullshit, and you're just whining because you're jelly. Face it: I planned ahead better than most other people, and you sure wish you could sit and study for days and days in a house without paying rent. I paid in advance in terms of setup time and various other expenditures, but that part isn't so easy to see... but it is easy to see that I'm seemingly just sitting here, goofing off on the web and gnawing on a Fudgsicle once in a while. It must be frustrating, huh?
Well, stop looking in my window and go work on something that doesn't involve being covetous and/or judgmental. Like, I can't even figure it. Why would I work any hard than I choose to, and what external standard should I be choosing for myself? And... why would you even ask?
I don't see you working all that hard at keeping your word, so... isn't it lovely, that I don't mention it? Tell you what, why don't you come over and explain to me in person what you think my 'work" is, and how "easy" it should be to do, and how lucky I am to even be allowed to continue to work at the goals that I have set for myself, and how wonderfully sensible it is indeed, for someone else to make such decisions for me.
p.p.s.: I bet reading is easier for most people than writing is. For me, something close to opposite these days. So if I enjoy something that is hard for nearly everyone else, but appears easy for me, should I... what? Stop allowing myself to look like I'm having fun? Is "work" supposed to be "hard"? Well, according to some people, I guess.
I think of those people as "dorks." I don't really know about you, though. You do seem very non-dorky. It's too bad I don't know what kind of tenancy I need here yet... you seem like a real go-getter. On top of details. And of course, honest.
Because anyone who virtue signals a Judeo-Christian dogwhistle
this much must be
automatically honest, amirite?
p.p.p.s.: I'm not doing anything, point blank period, until I am exonerated at trial. I made plans and put forth effort and resources all last year, because I believed that I would be doing certain other activities this year. Instead, I have found myself bereft of all my personal relationships and am in a new place where I cannot naturally form new connections... because some thuggy little bitch-ass megalomaniac feels like pushing me around is a good idea. Well, it fucking isn't a good idea at all, people who wish to talk to me are not being allowed to do so, and you know goddam well that if I were to start leaving this house on a regular basis, leaving it unattended on a regular basis, it would not be long before I would be courting disaster.
So I am glad that my work isn't keeping you on-task and focused, because now that I've written all this in response to your snooty little comments, I would quit my job and just give up on pacifism and punch you in the face. How fucked up you are! Men with guns on Chrimstas Eve, two days before Lion's Gate I get jealous wankers (not you, or not just you) suddenly complaining and banning me, oh look I'm back, and someone else wastes my time all morning, then I realize all night that I might as well have just done what I thought was best for myself... I mean think about it, no one is more invested or interested in my growth than I am, okay?
So. How long would it take you to write all this, and would you have to proofread it? And would you also be stalked by multiple hostile threat groups while you were doing it? I am wondering, because the answer is, "Yes, and if you can't see how hard all this is, how impressive it is indeed that I am making it look easy."
p.p.p.p.s.: Once again:
you just jelly.
