losing hopes

I've only got about fifteen minutes to write something here. I hate this shit. this world is nothing but inconveniences, and I have ideas to simplify everything, and no one wants to listen to me. I walk into countless libraries, asking countless people for the slightest bit of help or information, and they can't be bothered. I try to think of better ways to phrase my questions, to communicate to them what I'm looking for, or asking for, and they just refuse to have a human heart in place of their chase for dollar bills. does everyone have to be this selfish. I really do not see what you all are chasing after, and why each one of you has to have the same cloned life, the same music collection, the same clothes, what are you all getting out of the same sober experience of this life, why can't just a few of you be lured in my direction by nothing more than your curiosity. does curiosity not exist in your hearts anymore. what do I have to do, what do I have to say, where do I have to go, who do I have to talk to.

I know there are people like me in this world, how the fuck do I find you fuckers, and why do you avoid me, hide from me, run in fear when I see you, saying I overwhelm you, overload you.

if so many people say I overwhelm them, maybe I could put that shit on cd and you could rock to it.

if I ask for help of any kind from any fellow human, I feel like I'm breaking a moral law of theirs.

whose karma did I inherit, hitler's? how much blood have I not given to this earth? how in debt am I?

because I could teach you all something about the national debt you don't want to know.

when will knowledge be valuable, and when will money be no longer valuable.

will I get to burn that last dollar.
will I get to see another human smile in my direction that's genuine and not sarcastic or forced.
will I attract another female eye as long as I exist.
will my wife be the only woman in my life who was capable of looking at me that way.

eight minutes left, I supposed I could say more to fill this time.

why am I not allowed to ask seven billion out of control breeders for the slightest bit of help in going head first against a monetary society I don't agree with, to create my own society and get my kids back from an evil organization that shouldn't even exist, because it's not my fault you overpopulated the planet with violent psychotic unevolved Neanderthals and authorities who don't know their trigger finger from an asshole in the ground. and why does this computer still capitalize the word Neanderthals. no, they are unevolved, so is god. stop capitalizing this shit and telling me how I should write and what I should say. I cracked up a librarian the other day, by saying that people always finish my sentences, and then say 'well, I knew what you were going to say', and then I say 'what, am I that unoriginal, that you already read my thought on twitter last week?', and she chuckled. am I not allowed to finish what I'm saying, ever.

I come from a family of assholes who interrupted me so much, I had to tell my psychiatrist I was being intentionally brutally verbally slaughtered, so you can imagine how little I've been heard in my life. and that's okay, that's completely acceptable in a world where even the biggest hearts tell you you're on your own. that's the most passion, compassion, or sympathy they can seem to muster when their lives are being destroyed by the dollar as we speak. I hate that, I hate seeing your life get worse because you helped me, but I hate seeing other lives enjoying their warm houses, warm cars, and restaurant drinks. three minutes left, on a crappy keyboard, so I guess I'm done for the day. sober, weedless, and starving, no one will even tell me where shit is in this town. it's that much worse than haight. where can I go, this is fucking California, where the fuck do I go to find my people???

and why the fuck does every library I walk into smell like shoe shit!!!