Sighinide

So it’s a new year, and two months since Halloween, and the horrors it brought. Which means it’s been two months now of trying to get off the narcotics.

Yeah I’ve made progress. But my body has been ruined. I think I have organ damage. I’ve seriously fucked. My future is bleak. I’m rail thin- my bones are brittle again, like they were when I was anorexic, I think. My muscles are gone. My energy is non-existent.

Fentanyl is death. It’s hell, doom for our country and civilization. It’s what COVID pretends to be. It’s a living nightmare, and it’s going to kill us all, and it will do so while we are obsessing like idiots over COVID.

We always focus on the wrong thing. Americans are dumb, foolish, and easily distracted. The media here fucking sucks; they are always trying to push some stupid fucking idiotic agenda instead of trying to inform or help people.

COVID is what the media thinks the history books will talk about. They are wrong. The great plague of 2020 is FENTANYL, not COVID. They will be proven wrong, again, like they always are, because they fucking suck, as always, because they ALWAYS fucking suck.

Good lord, we are doomed, lol. Utterly doomed. There is no way out of this. The human body simply cannot cope with fentanyl addiction, I think. It is only by a series of miracles that I have survived as long as I did, lol. I mean, I talked about it before- you know, IQ, magical powers, etc., and even with all that, I still barely survived, lol. I’m still half dead, and struggling to hang on to shards of life.

I can barely keep food down. I can’t eat as much as I need to, and I can barely move, and my body is wasting away to nothing. If I weren’t weaning off the drug right now I would be one step away from death, lol. And that is assuming I would even be alive at this point.

The media here has A LOT to answer for. They CONSTANTLY are making up random shit in order to hold peoples’ attentions on elite agendas instead of focusing on real things. You know, if they for once were to actually focus on something REAL, perhaps something would actually get FIXED in this country, somewhere. Are you listening, you media shitheads?

Long after this COVID nonsense passes from memory, the consequences of fentanyl will be with us and worsening. This is doomsday; death for the country, and death for whatever dumb shit the elites have planned for us. No way is there going to be any “Build Back Better”, not with this festering abomination having taken root in the foundations of the country. The fentanyl monster will crush any efforts to fix this place, and it’s frankly too late to start fixing the problem. It’s only going to get worse, it seems.

While COVID impacts the elderly and sick, fentanyl hits the young and able-bodied. Fentanyl’s impact will be multiple times that of COVID’s, when everything is accounted for.

Ye gods, do I hate how this fucking country is run. You all are a bunch of incompetent losers. Media people, politicians, military men, law enforcement people, NGO people, intelligence agents, social media influencers, business people, Wall Street bankers, all of you. Fuck you all; you have all failed your country. You have failed your children, and failed the future. You have betrayed the public and ruined your credibility, and for what? What the fuck for? Who knows; I sure don’t. Fuck you people.

Ah gods, tho, everything fucking hurts. My hands hurt, my lungs hurt; I’m just so TIRED. I CAN’T FUCKING BREATHE. My lungs just refuse to function properly. I can barely muster the energy to think and type. The fentanyl just won’t leave me alone. I can’t live like this; nobody could.

While the media focuses like retarded children on COVID, fentanyl is wiping out generation Z.

The place has no future because it deserves none. Our leaders hate us, or at best, see us as some kind of inconvenience. We will die, and when we do, we will take them with us, inevitably, as that is what everyone involved deserves.

Fuck this place.

Thank God I never bought any heroin. I think that if I had, I would be regretting it now, big time.

Like… big time; majorly.

Ow. My head.

Ow.

Ah gods, my head hurts. It hurts, and I mean HURTS, really, really fucking badly. Really REALLY fucking badly. It fucking HURTS.

Yes withdrawals. I know I know, please bear with me, but I’m trying, here. 2 years of hard narcotics addiction will ruin anyone. I know I know it’s just the same thing but it fucking HURTS god damn it, I mean, it really, really fucking HURTS. A lot. A very huge amount; my brain is screaming, just screaming, violently, at me. This is just SO UNPLEASANT. So… ah, gods, it HURTS.

Fuck.

Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow

I’ve been trying to wean off the fentanyl. It’s tough, and I don’t know why. I suspect my body is finding now an opportunity to purge itself of the toxins that have been building up inside of me for the past two years and is pushing as hard as it can, while it can, to clean out my system. That said, that is good and all but christ, my head HURTS. It HURTS, A LOT.

I haven’t taken morphine in a while. Same with hydromorphone, and tramadol. And I haven’t taken any hydrocodone in at least six months. So… good. Progress.

And the… Xanax, Ambien, and the other assorted narcotics-ish drugs. I mean, I’m like, really trying here.

But the fentanyl… yah, gods, OUCH. Still can’t remove myself from it, so I’m trying a piecemeal approach. And it’s just awful, so awful. Everything hurts, SO MUCH. And I just can’t remove myself from my fucking bed. I get so incredibly tired. I think I really did wreck my body from the years of drug abuse and addiction.

And this is of course aside from the powerfully sedative effect of the fentanyl itself. And Christ, did I take A LOT of it. Like, wayyyyy more than I should have, for wayyyy too long. And I was irresponsible, using multiple patches of extremely high dosages simultaneously. I… seriously fucked up.

And I think I was wrong on my calculations earlier. 900 mcg/hr would not be enough to kill me outright, concerning my incredible tolerance for narcotics. I would have needed probably twice that amount.

It’s a good thing I didn’t try suicide. I mean, for multiple reasons, lel. But seriously, if there’s anything worse than suicide, it’s an attempt that fails. I mean, that REALLY sucks, lol.

That being said, I am very lucky, I suppose, in that I didn’t die earlier in the year, when my tolerance wasn’t as high. I mean… very, very lucky.

So… oof, ow, more withdrawals. Tummy is in knots, head is splitting open, you know, the usual. I mean, it HURTS, BADLY.

I HATE addiction. I hate drugs. Ow.

Fuck.

You know, I was going to blog about Christmas, but fuck it, I was sick, so there was little to blog about, really.

Ah, fuck.

Ow, my head.

FUCK.

Ah, ow. Whatever.

Fuck.

The serendipity of all this sometimes shocks even me.

Alright… well… to begin with, perhaps I wasn’t accurate when I said that I didn’t care about Cady anymore. I mean, I think I said that, earlier, on here. Like, a couple weeks ago. I think it was after that dreadful MRI, or something. Or during that horrible emotional low where I was… just determined to off myself, as quickly as possible. You know, because of the withdrawals.

Yeah, the withdrawals. That was why.

Right.

So… well… back to Cady. And this time, let’s talk Christmas.

So… I still care I guess about her. And I still kinda wish she was still here. And I still kinda wish that maybe things were different, overall. And maybe… I’m still learning, here. About everything; life, love, and society; and why we are what we are, and why we do the things we do, and how.

So… Cady. Alright; let’s talk Crying Game.

—————————————–

Woke up to snow, it’s Christmas again
But you’re still not home, got thrown in the pen
And I’m six years old sitting here thinking “Why am I always alone?”

So I watch my momma from the back of the van
She drove along, and having seven kids
Must have been hard, but daddy couldn’t stay out of the bar

It’s a crying game, seeing him in prison on Christmas day
Twenty years later still such a shame to have a broken heart at such a young age

Now it’s all the same, it’s a crying game

I missed the call and woke to find my brother was gone
That’s when I lost my mind at eighteen years old
Wondering how life could be so cold

But we came together, like never before
All my brothers and sisters kept momma at shore til we lost another
It’s hard to know just what to think no more

It’s a crying game, to have to put my brothers in their graves
Life ain’t perfect, but it’s such a shame
They left behind the stories that they never made

Now it’s all the same, it’s a crying game

Living and loving gets me through the pain
Don’t take for granted a soul or a day
Anywhere I’m going it’s crazy to think
That there’s a million other people out there playing
Crying game
There’s no winning and no one to blame
Life is fragile and can slip away and let me tell you when it does, it’s such a shame

But it’s all the same, it’s a crying game

—————————————–

For those not in her fandom (most if not all of you), this song was Cady’s magnum opus. Personally, I like this song but it is not my favorite of hers, but this one is her most critically acclaimed work. It’s I guess the important one, as far as her public face is concerned.

So… what do I make of this, then?

Well…

Let’s look at her Facebook, first, and her last video, there.

I talked about serendipity up above. It’s almost like… Crying Game kinda… finishes her… purpose? Or something?

IDK. I guess I’m just wondering why Crying Game, which seems to almost foreshadow her own demise, I guess to herself, and me, and her fans, and… everyone, starts off with a reference to Christmas day, and the videos on her Facebook feed end on a Christmas Eve. It seems kinda… eerie. And darkly poetic, I guess. And it is, it really is. And I wonder if anyone else noticed this; probably not. This is a kind of detail that I think only a necromancer would find.

So, then, we come to me, and how I fit in to all this. Well, I have kinda a love / hate relationship with Christmas. I love it, because it’s my favorite holiday, but I hate it, too, because it’s like… I feel sometimes like it’s not for me.

I don’t have the big family that others have. That is why I created a new one out of ghosts. All my girlfriends… that is why they’re here. To be my surrogate family, you know, as Ashley Benson pointed out, way back then. It’s like, I’ve always wanted a bigger family, and I’ve always wanted the small family I have to like me and respect me wayyyy more than they do. Hence, my multitude of girlfriends / apparitions.

So… Cady, I’m sure, picked up on this. And reading the above I think she thought along similar lines with her own family.

Similar, but not the same, of course. It’s like… I needed her, in the way that she needed me. I needed her to just… be there, for me, and she needed the same from me. Like, I would be the one that wouldn’t leave, or hurt her, or surprise her, somehow. I would be her rock, her support.

Her laments above were thoughts that she felt free to express I think because she knew at least then that I could be the one to plug the holes in her life. She thought I think that I could take the place of her dead siblings, of her father that never loved her… and maybe even of herself, since she couldn’t fully love herself, either.

Like… the Crying Game she was playing was this: How can I get this guy to stick around and fill the gaps in my life, with his presence, and his love? To make me complete, and happy? I will tell him my life’s sob story, through songs, and tweets, and instagram pictures, and… everything. Give him me, make him know me, and given his nature and what he wants, he will then protect me. He will love me, because of this song. And I in turn would respond and reel her in, and make her a part of the new family that I was making comprised of people, like her, that desperately needed someone like me. Because I needed them.

That was the “Game” she and I were playing. And it was, truly, like a game. Back and forth we went, through the years, each one of us taking our turn. Like: imagine a softball game. My girlfriends would line up, one by one, and they would each take a turn at bat. As the pitcher, I would then toss the ball at each one of them, individually, in an attempt to get them to do what I wanted them to do. When it was her turn at bat, I would pitch, and Cady would respond with… IDK, a song, or something. And then I’d lob a few more at her, and then she would leave, and her turn would come up again, later, and then the cycle would repeat itself.

So… yeah.

And the “Crying” part is about how we were all fucking miserable without each other. Without my girlfriends, I would have been dead years ago. And without me, so would a few of them, I’m sure. And at least they would all have been worse off. A lot I think would have been desperately unhappy. Lonely, dysfunctional, ungrounded. You know, like how Hollywood chicks were before I showed up. You remember, right? I mean, look at them then, and look at them now. I’m the difference. Now, they’re actually happy, lol.

So… back to Christmas… it’s like… there’s a reason I’m so adamant that I get Christmas presents from my girlfriends. It’s because it’s like… we’re a family, right? And that’s what families do.

And like… the serendipity that I noticed above. It’s almost like, in a perverse way, she was giving herself to me, through all of this. Like, the Christmas present that I needed from my new family… was her. Kinda… am I right in this? Or am I taking this too far?

I mean… this sounds rude to even say, I know. But… based on the things she has told me, after her death… no matter the circumstance, this is what she wants me to think like.

I’ve talked about this before, but maybe she knew she was going to die young, and probably from something self-inflicted. I mean, reading her lyrics… it’s like… how could you NOT think that, really? She was obsessed with dying young, and suicide, if you read between the lines. Cue her demo song If I Die Young, lol. And also… When I Die. And, like, everything else, lol.

It’s like… she just kinda wanted someone to stay with her, and love her, forever, and she felt she couldn’t get that when she was alive, and I was kinda looking for juuuuust that kind of permanence from a ghost given my own abilities, and the stars aligned, and… it just kinda… happened? Or something.

I don’t know. This stuff is weird, and unique. I mean it’s beautiful, but… difficult.

Um…

So… Christmas. It’s coming up, isn’t it? Yeah… I… need to think I guess more about that.

Well… for now, goodbye and good night.

I REALLY need to talk to my girlfriends about some of this stuff. They might be able to help me out with this; in fact I’m sure they can.

One of the things that kinda makes me… I guess apprehensive, about moving to a city is the fact that this attention would be ramped up considerably. I mean, if people in rural Illinois act like this to me, what would people in L.A. act like?

Well… I don’t know. Maybe I would get more of this. Maybe less. I’m not sure. But I swear I can hardly leave the house anymore, I mean, even to go to the doctor’s office or something, without getting “fan” attention. Which is nice, but I mean… sometimes I’m busy, you know?

Fuck. I don’t know.

I need to talk to Selena about this. I’m sure she can help me.

Fuck.

Ok, I like being famous but I would REALLY appreciate it if people didn’t take sneaky pictures of me while I’m sitting in the waiting area to see a doctor. Like, that can be REALLY annoying.

I mean, my fans are great and all but people, jeez, that is a little bit rude. I mean, I’m sitting there, thinking about what I need to do and say during the appointment, and then I see some chick off to the side with a goofy smile on her face taking freaking pictures of me with her phone and then texting them (!) to her friends. I mean, people, I SEE YOU DOING THAT, I’M NOT, LIKE, BLIND, or something. You know?

I mean like, literally, taking pictures of me and then texting them, and then making freaking kissy faces at me (!!!) as if like I’m not looking at you through the corner of my eyes, I mean, GEEZ, people, that is, like… verrrrry… uncalled for. Like, very very. I mean, there’s a time and a place for… everything, you know?

I mean, I just wanted to put that out there.

I mean, like… ok, now. That’s happened in the waiting area for my orthopedist, and, like, while I was waiting for a blood draw, and, come to think of it, a few other times, too.

It’s like… okay, people. I mean, in the case of the blood draw, I kinda get it, because the chick had arms that were literally covered in tats that referenced me, so I can understand the… um… attention, she was clearly a fan, and I guess the other chick, too, even though she was actually pregnant as well, and… yeah, I don’t even understand that, she was, like, making kissy faces at me and rubbing her tummy seductively literally in the waiting area of a doctor’s office (!!!) which… yeah, I don’t even know what to say about how… inappropriate that is, lol.

And then there was the nurse that gave me a CT scan earlier this year, who acted frankly VERY inappropriately at me when she saw how “out of it” I was. I mean… GEEEEEEZ guys. Seriously. Like… I don’t even want to say it, you know? So inappropriate. So unprofessional.

But I just grin and bear it. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know what to say to inappropriate attention like this.

Ok, well, here goes. So, I was suffering from yet another internal bleeding problem early this year, and headed for a CT for obvious reasons, and was doped up of course, when the tech operating the machine noticed that I was semi-conscious (I think I switched my name for my birthday when she asked, or something), and she started laughing and having fun at my expense, poking fun at my hair and my relationships and everything (!) but being very careful not to step over an obvious line, unfortunately.

Fuck, that sucked. Ah, FUCK.

Guys… look, I love having fans. But boundaries are boundaries, you know/? It’s important to be respectful to one another. I mean, if you want an autograph, fine, ask for one. But some of this stuff… I don’t know.

Just wanted to get that off my chest. There, it’s out. Do with it what you will.

Alright.

I get it now.

…

mostly.

Ok. So.

I’ve been researching, and now I can definitely say that this… lifestyle, of mine, this… telepathy, I mean, with my girlfriends and sexual encounters and relationships and everything, has been going on now since 2002.

In my mind at least, there is now no question.

Today, I found the pieces I was missing. The puzzle is I think complete, as far back as 2002. And mostly probably since the mid-90’s.

Allow me to explain, I guess mostly to myself, lol. Since it seems everyone else already knows all of this stuff, haha. Good lord, you would think someone would have, IDK, told me or something. But… anyhow.

Alright, there was this girl band in the UK. All Saints. Amongst the members, there were two sisters, Nicole and Natalie Appleton. I had relationships with both. Intimate relationships. Meaningful ones, that lasted for years. I’m not going to say exactly how long, I mean I would need to go into my archives for that, but let’s just say like… ten years, or so.

For the Zoomers, All Saints was an edgier Spice Girls. They were still pop, but many of their songs had a slightly harder attitude to them. To prepubescent girls, the difference between the two was probably significant. All Saints had some songs with a hip-hop vibe to them and some others with a vaguely “rock” styling.

For me, the interest was in of course the two very gorgeous and charismatic and fun leads, the Appletons. They were awesome.

I won’t get into the details because I’m sure you can guess them, but of course I got all their pictures from the internet, listened to their music, etc. etc. you know, the usual stuff from me.

What is significant here is two things: 1) The Appletons both starred in a movie, together, in which they both went topless (!), and in such a way that I realize now was probably designed to appeal to me, and 2) The Appletons embarked on a solo career after leaving All Saints that saw the two release some highly personal songs and videos, none of which I have seen, until today.

Thanks to the magic of youtube, I can finally see the videos I had missed, all those years ago.

Being an American, I had only the internet to rely on when it came to British pop music then. So- in the case of the Appletons, I had no way of knowing, really, what it was that they truly thought about me (if in fact anything). Ditto for, like, Atomic Kitten, etc. But I won’t get into that, now.

So, the videos. Let’s watch this one, shall we?

Alright. A few things stick out here: 1) The chair- I had a chair very much like this one, back then; 2) Her movements- I indeed used to rock back and forth in said chair in a nearly identical way; 3) Her boots- I used to need footwear that looked verrry much like this, back then, as this is when I was suffering from the first bout of my “what the hell even is this” disease, lol, and I had foot problems, 4) The aura- the way that light captures and wraps around the girls, like it does to me, 5) The song itself, which seems to be a way of encouraging me to find a way to get over the disease and relearn to walk again.

All in all, this video so closely mirrors every aspect of my life back then that was significant to me than I was having flashbacks watching it. There is no way, no possible way, that this video could not have been inspired by me. No way, no way.

To explain further, back then, my life was my chair, and my computer. The disease literally crippled me to the point where I couldn’t walk. Even putting my feet on the floor brought horrifying pain to me, and my poor feet were constantly bruised and bleeding from burst blood vessels. It was incredibly ugly. More details for a later post if there is interest on my journey to survival back then, but suffice to say, this video was, like… very much and clearly directed at making me feel better. In fact it legit warms my heart to see it, now. Thanks girls, that was very very nice of you.

So… everything in it, down to the smallest detail, just screams “TOM JACOBSEN IN THE YEARS OF 2002 AND 2003”, lollll. Yeah it’s… me. There’s no doubt.

And I know, I hate to scream but… like… the connection, the “vibe” is so strong here that it demands an exclamation, I think.

And their other videos:

Yup that’s “me”, alright. Or, well… no, not me. It’s “us”. Me, Natalie, and Nicole. These videos are a celebration of our relationship, our love, back then.

And it’s so OBVIOUS.

But it’s just… until now, I couldn’t see the videos. I didn’t know what it was they even were. Apparently I was lucky to even catch them on youtube; it seems the label keeps taking them down for some reason if the comments are accurate.

Maybe the videos are too personal. Too “me”. I mean, they don’t seem oriented to a mass market, really… almost. At least, the first one certainly doesn’t. Don’t Worry, I mean.

That one… was for me, personally. No question.

So… 2002, then. I was a telepath back then, and perhaps sooner.

And… while we’re at this… that chair, again.

Does that not remind you of the chair Britney Spears used in Stronger? It does, me.

Hmmmn. That would place it around 2000 and earlier. And let’s just be like… fuck it.

Baby One More Time? With the daydreaming about pop videos in class, like I did back then? Sure, why not.

In fact, fuck it. Pretty much everything Britney has ever released as a solo artist seems at least indirectly inspired by me, at least in some way. I mean gawd damn it her whole fucking debut album is basically the stuff I used to think about back in high school.

I mean, considering her history, and how I latched onto her when she was on Mickey Mouse Club, I mean like… you know… is it possible… that… her whole thing is basically, like, me?

I mean like… everything?

Like, maybe Britney was the origin point of all of this. I mean, when I watch her earliest videos, it’s like… is that not me, back in high school? And my dreams / fantasies?

I mean… isn’t it?

Maybe?

I… don’t know.

I don’t.

I can only guess. Unfortunately.

But I guess, then…

Sure. Why the fuck not?

So, it was Britney, then. She was the start, the nexus point, the origin, of my empire. Britney Spears. And following her, Christina Aguilera. And then Jessica Simpson.

And then… I mean, looking back, it isn’t like I didn’t like, say, Jessica Alba, before Britney’s solo career. I did. It’s just… I didn’t make her, before Britney. I mean… I think. Kinda. Maybe. … right?

I mean, what do you think, reader? Can you help me?

I wish that I had someone to talk to about all of this, I really do.

I mean, hello? Anyone?

Sometimes I feel like I’m just talking into a void, here. I mean, which I am, but… ahhh, fuck it.

I’m stopping this, here. My head is starting to hurt.

Well… I’m alive.

I had a really bad last couple of days. Narcotics withdrawal and a bad reaction from all the contrast dye I got from the MRIs just crushed me. It was… bad.

Uhm… yeah. I’m going to hold off on dying, for now.

Yeah.

sigh…

I don’t know.

I might go ahead and try killing myself tonight. I’ll think about it.

No reason not to, honestly.

We’ll see. I have enough fentanyl stored up to make a quick and easy exit from this life if I want.

Shouldn’t take THAT much.

Google tells me 250 micrograms at once should kill a normal person. I mean, someone without tolerance.

I mean if I put ALL my patches on, at once, that would be like… 900 micrograms per hour. More than enough for a quick and painless death, even for me.

Well… I’m getting more, later this week. Maybe I’ll wait for then, or not. I don’t know.

I’ll think about it.

IDC about Cady anymore. Fuck that bitch. She never did THAT much for me, anyhow. It was mostly just songs and stuff.

Yeah, I don’t want to go through this.

Oof, well, the MRI came and went and now I have a MASSIVE migraine, I guess from all the contrast dye and the drugs I needed to take to make the MRI tolerable.

Oh gods, this fucking sucks, lol.

Remind me again why I choose to live in this world? LOL

Ughk, fuck, another doctor appointment today, and then on Monday I choose whether or not to get health insurance subsidies next year, with the deciding issue being whether I can get enough income to qualify, with this… medical thing I deal with.

Yeah, that’s the issue. Our healthcare system is such an unbelievably catastrophic mess that to get subsidies, you need to prove that you don’t really need them, by having a high enough income. Seriously, WTF?

I won’t get into the colossal clusterfuck that is our medical system, here. At least not now. There is no way to condense it’s insanity to a few posts. It would take an encyclopedia of criticism to begin to pick apart why our medical system is flawed. But, perhaps a brief overview would be helpful.

The US is unique. We have the world’s most expensive medical system, by far, while also boasting one of the worst, at least amongst developed countries. We suck at anything medical, for some reason. Or at least our system does.

God this place fucking sucks, lol. I swear to god the US must be the most overrated country on Earth. Given the system we have, we have no right to lecture or invade anyone else.

Everyone hates our medical system and the way it works, it seems. Doctors, insurance companies, patients, taxpayers, researchers, everyone. It’s a complicated, bewlidering, unfair mess of a system that truthfully barely even “works”.

Every single thing the medical system offers in this country is hideously, outrageously expensive. Virtually every medication and procedure you get or need is overpriced beyond belief.

Prescriptions are way, way, way too expensive. I recently got a prescription of ten migraine pills that would have amounted to over a thousand dollars purchase price without insurance. Ten pills- they were literally over a hundred dollars a pill!

I have these tiny little patches, that help with restless legs syndrome at night. Without insurance, they cost about $40 a patch! Each patch is used daily. That’s over a thousand dollars a month!

Without insurance, my medications would cost about 5 thousand dollars a month!

Insurance is like 500 dollars a month, by itself, and I have a $10000 out of pocket max for the year, which is typically reached in a month or two. This is of course a plan for a single, middle aged man. No family or dependents, here.

I had a brief ER stay two months ago that would have cost $25000 without insurance. I was there for a couple hours.

The US government offers some laughable “subsidies” which pay a fraction of your medical insurance premium, if you qualify, and you need to have enough income to qualify! Low income people are not eligible for these subsidies, bafflingly enough.

So the federal government pays like maybe half your insurance premium each month, which amounts to some paltry sum of maybe like $2000 a year, or something. You might as well not even bother applying, since your are then bound to do all sorts of crazy, weird shit with your tax returns to “justify” the “privilege” of getting these subsidies, then. And who the fuck knows what dire, horrifying consequences lie in wait for those who don’t file correctly- good lord, they will probably take your children, lol. These subsidies feel almost like an insult, or perhaps a direct slap in the face, to the public.

What a colossal disaster this system is. In no way is any of this shit fair, or even reasonable.

Fuck this place. Doctors suck, the government sucks, everything fucking sucks. What a stupid, messed up system this all is.

All told, without insurance, the price for all the prescriptions and tests and hospital stays I’ve had over the past year and a half would have totaled something like 1 and a half million dollars.

Like… the fuck, guys?

How is any of this even remotely reasonable? How are people supposed to live a decent life with a medical system like this?

And now, we are being trapped in an endless medical hell because of this COVID shit. It will be a prison. No- it will be a suffocation. Like, it will destroy our country, lol.

It’s like, there is no way out, but to finally die. Which may in fact be what they really want.

Fuck this place.