I had been working on putting together a raffle for the MPN Foundation. Most aspects were pulling together just fine; however, a key piece of the puzzle was failing to fit. I was relying upon an internet forum with a high active membership for ticket sales, name BladeForums.com. Early indications were positive, but the owner was never available and was completely non-responsive to my notes.
On top of the that, the moderators are essentially a bunch of moronic pussies who are afraid to do anything.
Moronic pussies: does that appellation adequately convey my feelings of contempt for such assholes?
Long story short: even with the promise of free exposure, and a chance for his members to win free knived valued at $500 each, it was prima facie decided that the best way to handle the offer was to simply blow me off.
Certainly disappointing, to say the least. I don't know if I'll be able to realistically find enough other players to fill in and pay the knifemaker bills with enough left over to hit my goal for a donation.
What kind of organization doesn't permit a member to advertise a raffle which will not benefit him, but which will benefit the organization and cancer research? I'm not sure,but I can safely say with some certainty that this organization reaches for, and surpasses, a level of juvenile values & behavior which puzzle me.
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The fatigue is still present; if anything, worse than it was. This time, I think it is a function of the pain I've been experiencing on a round the clock basis. At times catching me by surprise, and leaving me doubled up screaming, I am by and large completely and utterly exhausted. I'm honestly not sure how much longer I can live this way.
There's not much worthwhile to fight for when I'm fighting to live a life filled with pain and that's it. I can't shake the feeling, the belief, the intuition that the best thing I can do is die. I'm back to waking up in the morning and realizing how deeply I hate myself and this life before I am able to even leave the bed; at night, I'm so tired that I can barely form a sentence. Combine this fatigue with simply overwhelming pain, and there is no reason to live.
Maybe in the next couple weeks I'll actually grow a pair of balls and slit my throat someday, back in the woods alone and in solitude.
Nothing is going to get easier, or better, for me: not financial matters. Not my health; not my feelings of being alone; nothing. I carry only failure with me, failure is my only accomplishment, my only badge.
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That is it. I am off to bed.
