And now I will blog about:
It’s illegal to not work.
This guy ^ is a caricature of me because I am a huge leech. I live on disability for a verbally diagnosed mental illness. All it took, was me saying “yes”, to a psychiatrist asking: Do you hear voices?
I don’t expect anyone to build/maintain my car, house, and roads, and/or educate/feed/health-coverage, my kids (don’t have any).
Talking about me, I must be disabled because I see no point in life, and if I even took after the average human person of the majority, people would be extinct because they would never date, marry, and mate, work on schedule, or even talk to other people.
I work for my dad’s ranch volunteer, and live off of SSD – Social Security Disability. It only seems to work, because even with my so-called illness, I can’t seem to get fired like other jobs, because I have unlimited absent days and somewhat no deadlines and my dad makes up the schedule as he and the seasons go along.
I feel like an abomination and a chimera that I even must eat or take any human animal needs from others, but if it were up to me I would have been peacefully euthanized at age 15, and the world would still get on, because people die all the time, and the world eventually gets on.
My depression is invalid. You probably have just as hard of a time as I do, but you tough it out more, and I take that for granted.