I hold my breath.

It’s not easy.

I’d love to say the world and more.

I hold my breath.

It gets harder with every word unsaid.

I’d love to expand the oceans.

I’d love to extend the skies.

I’d love to paint the lands.

I’d love to brighten the stars.

I’d love to lull the moon.

Yet I can’t.

I hold my breath.

I’d love to breathe.

I tell myself this quite a bit: allot can change in an hour, even more in a day, and everything all together in a month. Eventually no matter what, the situation can become favorable. Even the hardest choices, ones that can have immediate downfalls might uplift you in the long run.

Maybe it’s a new insight I have on everything. Every single thing is connected. All of it. Everything that happens, will happen. You can’t control it, nor can you fight it. You shouldn’t anyways. If you feel you should do anything at all, do it. The consequences will be extreme, yet it’ll always get better. I know certain things won’t get better for you right away, yet it may just effect the outcome of the entire problem completely. No matter the journey, it always starts with the most basic answer. No or yes. Even if you’re uncomfortable with the decision, eventually you’ll always say “I’m glad I made it.”

Unless it results in your death or something among that nature. Then it was the wrong choice. But hey, you’re dead so you won’t care.

I’m going to try to remain optimistic. It seems that everything that pans out works better that way. Not only to let go of personal fears, but to let go of the bad. To move on into the good. I say life is too short to (insert phrase here) all the time, and it’s the truth. It is. Don’t miss your god damn opportunities. One presents itself, don’t think of the negative. Take the damn chance. Leave your damn comfort zone. Sometimes you’ll find yourself more comfortable then ever.

Get caught up in the moment, and not in thought.

You’ll lose out any other way.

Maybe there will be a point to exist. I just am completely blind to it. I can’t tell either way. Maybe it’s that thought that leads people to god. Something I could never do. I don’t make goals. That way I’m never disappointed in coming up short. It’s been over a year since I’ve set one. Over a year since I’ve been disappointed. Well In myself anyways. But that in itself is somewhat disappointing. This is what goes on in my head constantly. Over and over again. It doesn’t stop.

Nothing stops. The world around me changes. People around me change. Yet here I am. Same stale thoughts. Firing across my mind like a trench war that never stops. It kind of takes the point out of everything. It truly removes that sparkle life once had. It’s not even a faint glimmer. It’s as dull as a dead forest in the middle of the summer. Nothing changes.

Winter is here. Blankets of snow cover everything. It means one thing to me. Less ways to distract myself. More time to live with the shitstorm that goes on inside my head. More time I get to spend alone. More time to seal myself off from the rest of the world.

I do a pretty good job at it too.

I hate it so much. Every time I try to do something about it, it just gets worse. I become more isolated. Every interaction I have it feels at least I make mistakes. Stuff I cannot correct. Even if people just blow it off and it doesn’t affect them in any way, it still effects me in ways one cannot fathom. I get to live with it the rest of my life. This hurricane of mistakes clear as day in my mind. I can’t let go of it. I don’t know why. I can’t let go of fucking anything. If someone means something to me, I just cant let go. They either have to die or become an enemy. Even then it’s still a tough battle. It’s still there. Every interaction becomes a distraction. I wish I could be completely oblivious to that fact but it’s the truth.

Truth is, I hardly feel anymore.

Sometimes I’ll let it out when I’m alone. Seems to be like a self cycle of just ridding myself of the excess. It’s just a fleeting moment. That little taste of what it’s like to be alive. But that’s what it is. Fleeting. As is time. As is life. I think the truth is that over all the shit that’s happened to me that I probably shouldn’t have blamed myself for I did. Then I suppressed those thoughts. This started to become so commonplace that it’s all I can do anymore. It’s all I know how to do. Hurt myself on the inside. I don’t have any way to change. I don’t know any way to feel. It’s lost to me. I’ve tried so many things to be happy, so many situations, truth is, it’s a giant black hole. It just consumes and consumes, any feeling of satisfaction I get is completely dissolved by it. Then ebbed away by time. Leaving me with nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Sometimes I reach out for help. Sometimes I’ll get a hand out of this fucking black hole, but all that ever ends up happening is me pulling them right down next to me. I can’t change that outcome either. There’s nothing to blame either. I’ve already blamed myself. I’ve already blamed everything that led me up to this point and it gets me nowhere. So your average Joe would say something like “well if it’s getting you nowhere then don’t do it”. I would have a very long time ago if it were so simple. I wish it were so simple.

I’m really good at my barriers too. I put up this false front of being a care free nice guy, truth is… That’s pretty much all I can do is act as someone else. The person that’s there for everyone is who I truly am. Everyone except for myself. Nobody’s there for me because of that reason. I can’t open up to anyone. I cant’ let parts of myself go. So planned are my words, my actions. It takes allot of alcohol to get me to live in the moment. To do things without thinking. This is limited in that way though. Substance abuse runs fucking rampant in my family so it happens once in a great while. A good memory of what I did the night before takes care of the rest. I don’t fear a hangover. I fear the part where I hate myself for how much I fucked up. The part where I wasn’t thinking. Either I’m completely crazy, or I’m completely sane. Either way both sides scare the hell out of me. I don’t know why either.

I can be so motivated. But it seems to always end up as motivation to do nothing. I’ll fight for it too. I don’t know why. I don’t know where the pieces fit. But I’m completely aware that the pieces fit somewhere.

Something just needs to happen. Something needs to change everything about me. I need something to do anything for. Because I don’t care about myself. Therefor I won’t do anything for myself.

Most people dream of fancy things, good relationships, good lives. All I ever dream about is being able to live with myself. Yet when I’m dreaming, all those seem to do is torture me with everything I did do wrong. People I’ve wronged stalk my sleep. I’d rather stay awake because of that. But when I’m awake I can’t stop thinking. So I continue to distract myself. As much as I possibly can. With whatever I can. Computer helps allot with that.

In this blog things are written that I could never form into words. Things I couldn’t ever tell another person. This is really me. This is my true face.

Fact of the matter is.

I’m fucking lost.

It’s time to shut off.

The light slowly fades like a door closing out light.

Darkness is the blanket that follows behind.

With it’s cold embrace, it grips everything in sight.

Moves it just out of view.

Dimming life throughout it’s reach.

The wind still is felt.

Gently brushing against every part of exposed skin.

Furthering the embrace of the night’s chill.

There’s no choice but to accept it.

Let it in.

Let it guide you.

Control you.

Be you.

You stop fighting it.

The world starts to become a different place.

The exact same, yet completely different.

Things start becoming visible.

Shadows.

Lights.

Stars.

A chill crawls up your spine.

Any minute something could come along and end you.

So you seek for anything familiar to guide you through the void.

Something to remind you that you’re still there.

With each step you become more aware that there’s nothing to protect you.

Time passes.

The moist embrace of the air begins to cool everything it touches.

Dew starts to collect.

In the distance you can hear the trees groan in the wind.

You become more aware of everything.

The veil of blankness begins to lift.

Suddenly you start to realize.

You’re not alone.

Figures surround you.

Tempting you with curiosity.

You give in.

Suddenly you’re lifted.

Floating through the night.

You feel a new warmth.

Every part of you is surrounded by bliss.

But it’s only fleeting.

It starts to slip away.

You feel claws on your back.

Teeth in your arm.

Sharp pain.

You feel many parts of what was once inside you suddenly flowing out.

You reach down to feel something warm, moist.

Moving.

Part of yourself.

Long and narrow.

You deduce it must be your lower intestine.

Yet no pain is felt.

All you feel is blood flowing out.

Your life being drained with each passing second.

You’re dying.

Slowly your breath turns cold.

The cloak of darkness and any figures fade completely out of existence.

Every sense becomes mute.

Time completely slips away.

Yet this is fleeting.

As if some higher power decided to hit the rewind button on your life.

You take a breath.

You start to hear.

Your eyes open.

Everything starts flowing back into you.

Slowly it revives you to the being you once were.

You stand up.

Not a visible scratch.

A whisper slowly echos through the wind.

“Night’s long from over”.

The time that passed can be counted in minutes.

You become aware of your surroundings once again.

You look around.

There’s the figures once again.

You can see them a little bit more clearly.

Curiosity is raised again.

You think to yourself.

“Maybe I shouldn’t”

But it gets the best of you.

Will it happen again?

Is it going to be different?

You give in.

History repeats itself.

It gets easier every time you wake back up.

Easier to give in.

Each time you go a greater distance.

Approach a larger figure.

Every time you wake up without a scratch.

Time moves forward exponentially.

Suddenly a warm breeze moves in.

The sky lightens.

The world returns to life.

The sun casts it’s first rays upon you.

Warming everything it touches.

Reflections in the dew glistening all around as if somebody had placed small diamonds on every flat surface.

The light wakes you up.

Was it a dream?

That’s all there is to pass it off as.

As you go about your day, you wonder how to get back to that place.

Waiting for night.

The cycle repeats.

It becomes the only important time of the day.

As with everything, it has it’s price.

Every time you wake up, there’s less of you there.

Eventually you loose so much of everything  it becomes impossible to wake again.

What’s the point?

You ask yourself.

After all, the only time you feel alive is while sleeping.

The last morning.

Everything fades.

You’ve lost everything to sleep.

This time you’re not going to come back alive.

At the final moment.

You draw your last breath.

Your last thought.

“Where did night go?”

…

Completely consumed by darkness.

We all reside in light.

This is my hardest thing to face.

It’s the part of me that takes up most of my time.

It’s hard to even write about.

Like daily life is a roller-coaster. It has it’s highs and lows, but I only feel the impact of the ladder. I can’t even sit in a room alone without sound or some form of preoccupation because of it. One could equate it like trying to find your way in a mine shaft without any hint of light. It sucks. Bad.

It’s been going on forever too. Everything just seems to go from bad to worse.

Most days it seems to make more sense to sleep then it does to stay awake. No point in really existing.

It’s affected me in ways I can’t even begin to state.

I don’t drive because of it. I’ve never truly come to terms with that and said it out loud before. It’s the reason. I’d just shell myself up even more so than I do now. Completely disconnect myself with the world. At least by not driving, I have to depend on others.

That’s very hard for me to say.

So out with some more.

I never finished school because of it.

I have a hard time being around other people because of it.

I can’t even come to terms with myself being a person thanks to it.

But, the old ways stay true, even I’ve been mostly convinced it’s not a real disease, it’s not a problem. Everyone has it right?

But how can I think like that? I mean it’s like a dark deep place, I can’t even look forward, hardly to tomorrow because it brings up the deepest memories of my past.

Things best left forgotten.

Self doubt best left alone.

I’ve tried a few times to get help for it too.

The question they always ask is “have you thought about killing yourself?”

Truth is I really haven’t.

Even living without hope there’s no point in ending life.

Any life means nothing that way.

I don’t think I could ever not see that way.

I guess that makes this not as serious right?

I don’t think so.

I don’t really get feedback. “Here have these pills”.. and the doctor sends me on my way.

Seems more like “Here take these fucking things and shut the fuck up, I’ve got much higher issues to attend to than something so stupid such as a common wuss disease.”

And I’m left with these little fucking white tablets that cost way too much money, and short a hundred bucks for the visit as well. The pills never work. I get too tired on them. Like everything gets hazy. Every day becomes the same. Mundane. Nothing. Maybe that’s what they’re supposed to do? Take the edge off of life. But what’s the point when you can’t even feel good?

I’ve also been diagnosed with ADD in the past. Another one of those things that people don’t really think is “real”…

Well I’d like to tell those motherfuckers to just try living in my shoes for a single day. Your mind playing tricks on you is so commonplace that you can’t even distinguish when it’s working anymore. I misplace everything ALWAYS. It doesn’t matter how vital it is to any task. Chances are I forgot where I fucking put it. It’s very easy to distract me too. A simple sound in the background and it’s like “shit where the fuck was I?”. This helps the depression allot too. I can’t even do shit right you know?

The closest word that comes to mind is “burden”.

I lose my resolve all the damn time.

“I’m going to get this done in two weeks” or something, and by the time it passes, I’m too busy getting distracted with other things to even touch upon the subject. This adds to the depression.

Everything seems to just matter a little too much.

It’s annoying.

Like a fire with so much fuel and nothing can put it out.

Is this what insanity is truly like?

Every step your mind plays tricks on you, and you suffer that it did so?

Maybe that’s what this blog is about. Somewhere I can sort my thoughts and reflect upon them. Maybe it’s documenting myself slowly going crazy.

Whatever the reason, I’m going to continue writing here. Though I have not much hope of anything to come of it.

Anyways I’m getting distracted again.

So I’ll stop whining and wasting time, so everyone else can sort out their own problems.

See you on the dark side of the moon.

It’s getting cold again.

Time for my sanity to once again start wicking away with every passing moment.

Fear for the summer.

June.

July.

August.

The worst months of my life.

If there’s something bad that’s going to happen to me, that’s when it will.

It always does.

Always after a good year.

This year has been for the most part good.

Or has it?

Fully exposed to the addictions around me. No barrier whatsoever.

You see, I don’t accept a candy coated world. I accept things for what they really are.

Cold.

Dire.

Every single person I know all is just trying to comfort themselves by numbing away the pain of existence. Whether by drugs, sex, gambling, or adrenaline, they’re all running from reality.

So far, by my count, just about every person you run into has some off illusion about themselves, and life. These estimations are always so far fetched. So wrong…

How do I convince myself of greater things? Hell the only hope I really have is for civilization to crumble away from it’s very foundations of these lies. Everything to collapse, and the only things that really matter are the things that should matter. Food, water, safety, companionship, and life.

I mean really, where in the scale of life or death does 90% of the shit that fills our head even fit? -5? Yeah. Only really ones that do count. Eat… Drink… Shit… Fuck…

So much gray area. Most anyone does with it is completely waste away their fucking life. I need to get high. I need to get drunk. I need to fucking retire. Not a single one of those actions truly benefit anything beyond our “pre-guided” little lives.

Everything around us tells us to do these things. Everyone around us follows us blindly.

To fail to follow this. Simply falling behind. Doing this, well… Something programmed us to see this as a bad thing. How can we even fucking think for ourselves? If we do, we’re an outcast.

I hate modern media controlled society. I think my own thoughts. People like us are the only one’s with the real ability to make a change for a better life, but we’re weeded out. We don’t fit in. We’re cast out.

All for nothing really.

I guess if the world ends tomorrow, it definitely will have deserved it. Thanks to following the norm and being able to get into high positions anywhere in the world. People that make choices that effect all of us. They’re definitely not more intellectually able than most anyone. Yet these people kill the world around us. Why does anyone let them?

Fear. Fear for being out of the norm. It’s pathetic. Fear to not fit in. Fear put in our heads by these “leaders” to ensure we’re docile. Contained, content with the safety they provide. The world around us establishes the norm, and like fucking lemmings running full boar off a cliff, following that first stupid little fucker to have an “accident” just go along with it. It’s not fair to anyone. I mean who gives a fuck how fucking destroyed our future gets in the name of commercialism when some stupid little fictional number called a “credit score” is way more important for you to get the shit that you want right now. Instant gratification. The biggest high anyone can get. Getting something nice. Spending money.

Money is just as fictional as said “credit score” yet it has become the most important part of everyone’s life. It’s impossible to be alive without it after all.

Thanks society.

You’re a real fucking asshole.

Oh and if you try dying, well fuck hold on! If you make it, guess what. You don’t get any money for a long motherfucking time. Oh and if you do, well that just makes everyone else around you poor. The only people that really fucking matter in the scope of your life. Burdened by your death. That last little parting gift to everyone that matters.

That’s what anyone contemplating suicide should think about. How much it’s going to cost anyone that’s ever brought even a glimmer of hope in their life. They should think about it really long.

Anyways, as I was cleaning my fucking shit hole of a mess, I decided to open up the overwhelming flow of the past. I keep a few things, just faint objects in my life. Meaningless to anyone but myself. They represent everything that matters to me. People dead, alive. Parts in my past. Hopes for the future.

I found myself asking one simple question.

Where the fuck did everything go so wrong.

I’ve had futures so many times, so many plans. Is this my addiction? Striving for any faint crumble of solid mass to hold onto in this feeble life we all have? Every time I try to get anywhere, I always get behind the point where I started. I know it can’t just be me that’s this fucking “cursed”, but fuck. It gets old after the third time. Well Mr. Madman, you’re on try number seven.

Fuck.

What I’m simply getting out of everything is this: You’ll only ever truly be any form of content with anything if you convince yourself of things that do not exist. Examples. God, Happiness, Peace, and so many other things. But I can only see this as complete idiocy. Why bury your head in the sand, when you should know better. You only live this life once. Why does everyone seem to act like they get mulligans in the next life? I mean it’s this stupid ass ostrich approach of burying our heads whenever anything truly important comes along that got us in such a fucked up state in life anyways. Yes it’s easier to look the other way, but it’s ten times rewarding pursuing what you have seen.

Maybe I’m  just damaged. Maybe I’m not supposed to see this way. Maybe the reason I don’t fit in is because there is something wrong with me. I’ll never know whether that part is the truth or not. Frankly, I could care less.

I’ve tried the numbing myself approach to everything. I can’t do it. There’s no fucking control. After you find something that works, this specific addiction, it starts to drive you. Takes over everything. Until it’s the only thing that really matters. You can try to act like other things really matter. But as with any addiction, it’s the only thing that truly matters. Your own little escape from the real. Maybe that’s what makes society work so well. That little fucking sense of inner peace people get when they give in to the fear and feel “normal” once again. Must be some sort of high. I wouldn’t know much about that whatsoever. Such matters don’t remotely concern me the way they should juxtaposed with popular views.

But sucks to be alone.

It really does.

There are very few people I can connect with.

Every time I think I find someone that I can talk to with some resemblance of a free thought, it always seems to turn out the same way. They just end up being people that act different, to fit in as not normal. In other words. A fucking lie. A persona they cast on themselves to try to somehow improve their image to the norm. It’s bullshit.

So what do I do with my time? Nothing. Or at least, strive for nothing. As much nothing as I can possibly do.

Anything to keep me from thinking.

Because when I do any thinking. It’s always the same conclusion.

I am without anything.

I guess people find it strange that I’m a nice guy. I can’t help it. There’s too much fake in this world.

You only live once.

There’s only one chance. Why waste it being unfaithful, or a fucking asshole, or lie. It’s going to get you only farther behind in the long run. But then again when I look in a mirror, I started off behind. Never caught up. But I cant change any of it.

Life’s too short.

Why the hell would you want to waste your time being somebody you aren’t?

Think for yourself.

Think of yourself.

The only people that frown upon addiction are those who are unaware of their own.

Some days it just hits me. I’ll be walking outside or waking up. Certain actions take me back. I don’t know if it’s just me that’s hyper sensitive to these times. It’s like conditions are perfect to be at a time in the past but pulled into the present. Everything all at once just pulls and hits you, from the smell, the temperature, the cool moisture touching your skin… It’s not quite deja-vu, at least not in any sense I’ve ever understood it. It’s more real than that. It’s like stepping back in time, where the colors of the world are much more vivid. The sights, sounds and smells all combine to turn into this unbelievable experience. It’s strange.

It keeps me yearning, not for the past, but for the future. It makes me excited for what I get to experience. See now it’s October, and we’re due for snow here in the north. So this happened to me earlier, and now all I can think about is that first blanket of snow. If you knew me personally you would be very confused about this. I hate cold weather. I hate snow. I hate winter. Yet here I am longing for it. Strange how that is. If this hadn’t happened to me earlier, I’d rather see it never snow. Maybe it’s just me being wishful for the earth to start me off again. So much nothing has been going on for me, every day seems to meld together. Every step I take seems like I’ve taken it a thousand times. Everything blends together, this gray mesh. This unlit world. As color slowly fades from everything, I start hating the way things are. This is what has me make bad choices. Keep the color in the world. Being in the same area for too long keeps it gray. I cannot handle that.

Maybe that’s what these instances are. A part of the colored past revealing itself to me. Masking over the plain. Showing that there was once color in this part. Something new. Maybe that’s what this is. Hope. The feeling that everything still hasn’t been felt before. A reconnection with what once was.

It’s too vivid not to be real after all.

As I advance myself, look to the future, I cannot help but wish everything was my first time. For after you’ve done anything, it’s simply less than it was that first time.

It would be torturous to be immortal. You could aspire to be everything, and even become all you want, but in the end you’d aspire to be nothing.

Juxtaposed with the scale of life I’d rather have it come to an end. Not on my own terms, but on life’s terms. It’s too boring to know when anything will happen.

It remains the last thing you experience for the first time.

Anyways when I was applying for this job, during an interview the question came up “where does your passion for working with food come from?” I didn’t have nearly enough time to sort my thoughts and spout them out in a logical sentence. So I just went for the cop out and said “from my creativity”.

Well if he knew where my creativity came from…

Death

I mean. Everything, no matter what we eat is death. Except for salt anyways, but that you can’t make look too pretty anyways.

Nothing gives these creatures a proper funeral. Here in america we make dead shit look pretty. It’s not common many other places around the world, but it sure as hell is here. So every plate I send out is a casket in my logic. Death needs to be beautiful, and what better way than making the beauty of death to keep someone alive (or full same difference). Where I work it’s even better, because I give the beauty of death to someone that’s dieing and that can help them stay alive. Weird but cool. So whenever you’re eating your next meal, whether it be a nice plate, a fast food wrapper, or a box, think of that as a coffin, and its contents as the dead. See how a nice look can affect that point of view, and you can see through my eyes in this manner.

It’s like a million things race through and all try to force their way out.

All I can do is scream.

Silently.

In my head.

I don’t have any concept on how to contain it. It’s like a mindless manifestation of my own insanity being reflected to me from my past. It’s not only my past though. It’s the present, the future, and everything else as well. Maybe I just can’t cope with reality, or I can’t express how I feel to anyone.

It’s hard to put everything in words. I’d rather just keep glued to some boring bullshit to keep my mind off of everything. Videogames, TV, Movies, blogging… you fuckin name it. I do it. It keeps me from thinking about anything. It freezes me in the present I guess. Everything we do is in preparation to the future based on our past events. To stay focused on the present is ludicrous. But if I take a step forward, I remember all the shit that’s happened to me in the past and just fucking freeze. Afraid of advancement, or progress. Just blind to everything. Ignorance is bliss.

There’s no real resolution here, it’s just a statement of how I am. I don’t ever expect to get better, no matter how many drugs they put me on, or who I meet. I’m just fucking floating, a single crumb in the deep sea. Remnants of what once was, slowly dissolving. Waiting to be taken completely by the darkness.

Maybe not.

But it has been a while since anything bad has happened on a scale the whole country can relate to. A very large sum of time has passed since we’ve really fought a true war. Sure there’s been political bullshit wars the past 60 years, but nothing on a devastating scale. Yes 9/11 was horrible, yes we’ve had a few I guess “skirmishes” but nothing that really 100% of everyone can back. Who in Iraq or Afghanistan are we really after? What is the purpose of sending people trained to defend our country to some damn desert? Sure we had a good reason almost a decade ago, but it’s been stale for a few years now. It’s not fair to anybody. These countries can’t be fixed, not without the people in them really trying. So why are we wasting resources on any war that really doesn’t directly affect us? We’re never really going to get the extremists, or the people behind most of the world’s “evil” so why in the hell are we doing it? These organizations are like rats, sure they need to be stomped out, yes it’s a big problem.

Truth is, it’s like killing cockroaches.

For every one you step on, there’s like fucking thirty that got away.

Anyways that’s not really what this is about.

I’m trying to figure out what’s going to happen to us as a nation in the years ahead of us? The last real war was almost 70 years ago.

If it’s true that history repeats itself, what’s taking so damn long for something to actually fight for to exist.

If we were ever actually invaded, I’d be one of the first motherfuckers getting myself killed trying to stop them.

Fuck the military, I’d do this on my own personal grounds. I don’t care about the training or any of that. I would die. It’s an example I’d try to set. I at least know how to use a gun, where to shoot, and how to conceal myself. I know, no matter how much training they can give you, it won’t even come close to compare to the hell that any type of war really is. I think maybe a little bit less training might actually leave room for innovation, be it tactics, or just simply psychological benefits. When you’re trained to do things one way, and nothing happens that way, what do you fall back on? You could go over sixty thousand scenarios, but that’s what the enemy has done too. Every one of those could be different from the ones you’re taught. Not better, just different. Both ends are screwed.

I never wanted to be that type of “I got my gun” types, but the truth is, we have that amendment for a good damn reason. I think the people on the countryside would defend lands much better than in the cities. Most of the people I know in cities, either don’t have a gun, don’t know how to use a gun, or are afraid of guns. It almost seems like they’re just ignoring the fact that wars do happen. Shit does go down, it’s only a matter of time.

Not if.

When.

I’d feel sorry for everyone who ever wanted to implement gun control. What the hell would they do? They’re trying to stop everyone from having the right to defend themselves, their families, and their countries.

It would be one hell of allot harder for any fucking invading force to even get anywhere had every single person in this country had a gun, and was required to know how to use it.

It would be one hell of allot harder for our government to make up laws we don’t agree with as well.

Allot of people always say things like “governments have bigger guns” and the like. Truth is, their guns are pretty much regulated to war standards. Any sensible country would completely avoid anything like that.

War is hell. Look at everything that’s ever happened. If you have the technology to win that war, why the hell can’t we use it.

I understand not using nuclear weapons, due to the prolonged effects, so that one is completely understandable. But limiting the size of ammunition just doesn’t make any sense. The faster you are able to stop anything coming at you, the better your chances for survival is.

Is it just so it doesn’t look so bad in the face of the media?

Probably. But the media hasn’t really covered an true to the grits fucking war WAR. Most of the people that bitch about tactics and tech, never fought in a real one.

Why should we abide by the rules, when the enemy doesn’t? Isn’t it by not following the rules of war what gave us our country in the first damn place?

And say our government did fail. I don’t know how, maybe a big fucking EMP wipes out all of our electronic infrastructure.  What the fuck do we do then?

It would be chaos.

All the criminals would have a chance to get ahead.

Why the hell shouldn’t we give ourselves the know-how to stop everything?

Hell guns should be mandatory. I think the more people with them, the less likely anyone is to be shot anyways.

Maybe when you’re of the age to vote, the government should send you a nice carbine assault rifle (no need for burst fire, in my world NATO rounds aren’t used), and a 45 handgun. Shit, anyone who commits a murder has 30 people in that vicinity to directly stop it. Anyone that’s a sociopath would be dead before they could even pull the trigger. Call it the “natural selection” law. Would rid us allot of crazies. Hell maybe even teach courses in school, like a part of gym class is marksmanship. Graded on how well you could hit the target. “Jimmy you get an A! all of your shots were killshots!”. Shit, I would go back to school if that were the case.

Also should be taught what a government can and can’t do. Keep the government in check, that way not one single person can truly have power over another.

It would also work as a kind of population control.

Maybe my views are a little bit sinister, dark, or even stupid. But that’s just how I see it. Everyone should have the right not to be fucked with, and have the ability to enforce that right.

I guess this completely contradicts my thought that death sentences are wrong. But hey, who isn’t fucked up with hypocrisy anyways.

But in a sense, sure all the criminals would have guns, but so would the victims. They’d have a chance to defend themselves.

Just imagine an invading country though. They’d have to glass the whole fucking country just to send a single platoon in.

I’m not a NRA member or anything like that, I just think we all should have a way to make a difference if things get rough. Because when they do, only the people that can use guns will have a chance. People will use them to get ahead. It’s just common sense.

Given a bad situation, preparation can make all the difference in the world.

We all deserve that.