I am Kyler.

It's better to burn out than to fade away.

I hate how working with an autistic person really brings out such a bad person in me.
Like, I should be more sensitive, but my safety is at risk and I am here to do a job. This place is like a heart and we’re the blood but she’s a clogged artery getting in the way of things that need done.
But when I offer to do something for you and you return that by laughing at my face, getting unwanted spit all over me, you can be sure as shit that I’m not gonna go out of my way to help you out anymore.
And it’s like, you do the same job every single day, how is it that every 10 minutes you find a new way to fuck it up?
AND STOP FUCKING STARING AT ME.

So all I have to do is dump a bucket of water on my head and it will cure people?

But then the second that sleep is achieved, I’ve found my ‘heroin’ and nothing else can satisfy me and if you’d offered me all the money in the world, I’d beg to trade it for 5 more precious minutes of slumber.

Waking up is one of my biggest faults. I mean both in the mistakes I make as a result of being, and 100% in the way that it is always absolutely one of the hardest parts of my day.

I understand waking isn’t an immediate or even easy process for anyone, and I really really really, DEFINITELY HATE to be the person that says “yeah the average life is hard and waking up sucks but my day is so much worse like bro you don’t even GET it!!!!!!!”

And yet I will do exactly that.
I don’t care.
I’m right.

I’m right.

I’M FUCKING RIGHT.

I’ve BEEN the ‘average attempting’ person. That’s fucking EASY.
How the fuck you live a satisfactory life in terms of self fulfillment and true worldly accomplishment without actually putting in a single cent of effort baffles me.

If you could only fucking see.

Fucking just watch me on a camera for a shift and you will literally throw up just at the amount I’ve worked, much like I do during/after work, then add in sounds and you’re dealing with people who you’ve confided in, literally whole-heartedly attempting to trigger a flashback by driving too close and laying on their horn “just to see what happens if you..” Or intentionally making you work 100x harder by not doing their job, just to see if you’ll ‘eat it’ for them. And I hate every second of it, but I fucking do it because it needs done.

Every night I convince myself to kill myself.
Some point in the night I talk myself out of it.
Then it comes back and I make a plan. Daily. Different. Daily.
(That alone is an exhausting process)
Then I work it up, talk myself into it, push the memory of troublesome times and of course the present into my immediate thinking..
By this point I have a plan and I’m driving home.


But there is always some FUCKING situational coincidence preventing me.

I just want it to fucking ware, and if that means an eternity of starting at dirt that might just be my heroin(e).

Sometimes sleep is death and I just want to never experience it and avoid it forever, prolonging the little life left inside me, disabling the flashbacks, halting the memory of something most miserable.

I want to burn that energy and see how far I can run on empty, then ask for 400 more miles without a drop and say “yeah, I’m good.”

I certainly dislike like that I will be working every other Saturday for a fucking year..

I certainly dislike one of my team leaders, who is an idiot and an asshole at the same time.

I certainly dislike being extremely rushed, demeaned, and insulted by said team leader on a process I am literally brand new to.

I certainly dislike getting yelled at by big wigs while said team leader stands with his arms folded nodding like Billy-Badass-Never-Broke-Nothin-Told-Ya-So-Dumbfuck-Newbie.

I certainly dislike that I dented a trailer door that belongs to Toyota 2 seconds after being yelled at to “FUCKING GO YOU FUCKING RETARD” by somebody I am in all cases meant to look up to and respect.

I certainly dislike being put in a new position when the person I’m supposed to go to for answers intentionally ignores me, making eye contact, listening, then walking away multiple times, meaning I have to go bug someone else who is already busy with their task..

I certainly dislike how much my sisters’ leave is impacting me, having me reduced to an emotional wreck on the floor unable to ‘come to’ for up to two hours at a time.

And I FUCKING HATE that Kenny (definitely) intentionally ignores me. He can say “bye-bye” to the business because his #1 customer is kaput. New source found at just about half price. And the reliability is about the same but the communication (thus far) is 1,000 times better.

Lower Management: lOl but doesnt they git pade lesss an werk hardr?
Upper Management: Ken u rpeat that i am sry i fel aslepp in te batherromm becauz i am soOoOo BORED

Lower Management: Hay wudnt ’ it b battr 2 yell at som1 to ‘fix it’ than 2 actuly put ne efert in2 my departmint?
Upper Management: lol dose bares shit in wooods/?

Sobriety’s the enemy, I’m never scared to fight

I will slam you in my car in the dead of night.
100% surrounding awareness, I’m always “there”
Shadow figures aren’t actual, so I know not to care.

I accidentally bought cocaine.

Pure, uncut cocaine.

I thought I was buying Molly.

Uh, does.. Does anyone want this?

A frog goes into a bank and approaches the teller. He can see from her nameplate that her name is Patricia Whack. “Miss Whack, I’d like to get a $30,000 loan to take a vacation.” Patty looks at the frog in disbelief and asks his name. The frog says his name is Kermit Jagger, his dad is Mick, and that it’s okay, he knows the bank manager. Patty explains that he will need to secure the loan with some collateral. The frog says, “Sure. I have this,” and produces a tiny porcelain elephant, about an inch tall, bright pink and perfectly formed. Very confused, Patty explains that she’ll have to consult with the bank manager and disappears into a back office. She finds the manager and says, “There’s a frog called Kermit Jagger out there who claims to know you and wants to borrow $30,000, and he wants to use this as collateral.” She holds up the tiny pink elephant. “I mean, what in the world is this?” … The bank manager looks back at her and says… “It’s a knick-knack, Patty Whack. Give the frog a loan. His old man’s a Rolling Stone.”