How about a laugh, (hopefully)

I have always knocked at the door of that wonderful and terrible enigma which is life.

Eugenio Montale

I hope everyone is having a better day than I. You must believe me when I say I hate to complain, but I just have to tell this story, which has made me think about something I read yesterday about how those in India sometimes starve themselves to death in an effort to hasten the same, thus relieving the pain of dying.

I ordered something last night from Amazon that was to be delivered this morning. The driver leaves a message that she cannot get inside the main gate and she is going to leave my package hidden outside the gate, and that a picture of its location would be provided. Also, " I will not be paid for the hour drive time if I have to come back and retrieve the package." No picture, no package. Amazon Assistant says it will now be delivered Monday, fine.

Since I am now near the office where my mailbox is located, and where I also knew more packages had been delivered, I tried to open my mailbox, but it is too full and is jammed. I go outside and try to talk to the woman in the office, who everyone hates because she is rude and a general annoyance, "Well, perhaps if you came to collect your mail more often, this would not happen now, would it?" I explain that because of my poor health, which she is fully aware of, I often do not walk to the office to collect my mail. It had only been a couple of days since I last went. "Ohhh, I am soooooooooo sorry", at which point I asked her where her empathy and compassion were, of which she did not respond. Back and forth, and I ended up telling her I actually try to avoid the mailroom on Saturdays when she is working because she crazier than a pet loon, As I was walking back to my apartment, I could hear her inside the office saying in a very snide manner, "Oh, where is your compassion etc" while squealing in delight because she knew that she had pressed my buttons. And boy did she. I am not sure I have been so angry or upset like I was this morning.
I have complained about this person in the past, a known nutcase who everyone is afraid of, however I am not afraid to complain and came back to my apartment and prepared a letter to the manager about what had just happen, and that I am now feeling harassed by this person. I will deliver the letter on Monday.

I am so tired of being sick, I cannot even explain it fully. So when I read that article about the practice done in India, I thought, "Okay, maybe this is an answer to my dilemma." No, I probably will not starve myself anymore than I am starving myself now, as I pretty much have to force feed myself because whatever obscure disease I have causes no appetite. I have been reading an article in the New Yorker about Joyce Carol Oates in which she discussed anorexia. "The appeal of anorexia is no mystery. It is a way of eluding people who pursue so closely, a way of channeling off energy in other directions." Ms, Oates has always been thin and often "starves herself into submission. " Not to punish the body but simply to exert one's will. She uses her thinness to become invisible, which is how I kind of feel, invisible. Invisible and broken hearted because so many still have no sense of compassion. I ask for very little, really. I am a giver. But today after that altercation over my mailbox key, I really did give serious thought about the starvation ritual. Too bad my psychologist has gone AWOL. LOL,

in reply to @scottrl This is my last one for the night, which is now morning.

God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives; who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? Friedrich Nietzsche

in reply to @scottrl Yes, I agree, I actually like Carl Jung better. Are you familiar with his "afternoon of life" commentary? I have it posted on my wall. Good stuff.

Meh. Nietzsche was a madman. An interesting one, perhaps, but a madman nonetheless.

"I am having all the anti-Semites shot." -- Nietzsche

Personally, I think Nietzsche never got past embarrassing himself over Cosima Wagner and spent the rest of his life trying to get over it. Until he went completely nuts, that is, and forgot that he'd ever written anything.

The kindest that one could say about Nietzsche is from Walter Kaufmann:
"He challenges readers not so much to agree or disagree, but to think."

Well, I've thought about it, and I think he was a madman.

Nietzsche should have stuck with philology.

Tolstoy had his number: "Neither in talent nor in their basic argument do these writings justify public attention."