Whenever people try to cheer me up by pointing out my "good qualities", I'm sick to death of hearing that I'm a "good" and "nice" person. Would like to hear opinions on this. I don't believe there is such a thing as a good or a bad person, I think there are just different levels of ambition. Kinda like this: 1) No ambition whatsoever. Don't care what happens, as long as it all ends someday. It's pointless to argue or fight about anything, it's pointless to defend myself or get involved with others' problems, I may as well go through the motions and complete the same daily repetitive tasks, not creating any waves in the process. I don't even have the motivation to kill myself, oh well... 2) Low ambition. Little really matters. I'll fulfill short term and simple goals such as drinking, watching TV, listening to music, etc., but it's all just filler. I do whatever needs to be done, although I'll take shortcuts whenever I know I can get away with it. I either learn to make do with what I've got, or I try and kill myself. 3) Average ambition. My hobbies keep me interested in life, and I have big goals that I may never accomplish, but oh well - it's still nice to have goals. I will stand up for myself and others. Occasionally I will bend the rules to get what I want, though primarily just simple things and preferably without hurting anyone in the process. If I ever killed myself, it would likely be because I became so crippled that I'd feel I burden those I hold dear. 4) High ambition. I will break rules and take shortcuts whenever possible to get what I want. Sometimes to get what I want I will even consider extreme measures, provided I believe I can get away with it. I will gladly defend those I hold dear, as well as those who support my interests. 5) Insane ambition. I will break any rule and destroy anyone who gets in my way to get what I want. I will only help those who have something to offer me or to further my own image, otherwise they could go to hell for all I care. The only way I would even consider dying is if all that I've labored to accomplish comes crashing down around me. I rate myself a 1. I'm considered a "good" person not because I care about anybody or that I support what is "right", but simply because I don't create problems and I do as I'm told. In fact, Ma says I was a better child than my sister, who I rate a 3 - which in my mind further supports my theory. I was considered a "better" child not because she was mean or out of control, but because she cried for attention more and was extremely curious, whereas I was mostly quiet and kept to myself. So to sum it all up, I see being "good" or "nice" as the equivalent to being a fucking doormat. An insult. Shit, I want to die so badly. I've forced myself to look at the images of suicide victims, and have become sick to my stomach. I see humans and animals as little more than biological machines with complicated chemical mixtures that result in emotions and hear all the time of them practically being taken apart and put back together like they're fucking Fisher Price jigsaw puzzles, and yet I can't even handle looking at mere images that have been cleaned up for public viewing. Pathetic. I don't plan to live past the age of 30 if things don't change by then, although I'll probably pussy out and make it 40 when I finally get there. Either way, I refuse to live my entire life like this. I've done research into methods, and so far the most appealing seems to be the one done by that 81 year old Australian man. And before the bleeding heart rainbow-dwellers frolic out of the wood-works with suggestions of drugs and therapy, I've already done it all and have concluded the entire field of psychology to be nothing more than pseudoscience. A grand cash cow in which pharmaceutical companies fatten their vaults with "new, revolutionary" drugs which 95% of the time are just the same as another drug, but with slightly different dosages while downplaying what can be very nasty side effects. Therapists who maintain a decent living through manipulating their patients over long periods of time claiming even the smallest things out of their mouths to be "signs of progress" and stringing them along with phrases such as "I wouldn't continue seeing you if at any time I thought that I couldn't help you". They said electroconvulsive therapy had over a 75% success rate. 75% my ass; most people who've undergone ECT I've talked to after the fact only either suffered migraines or memory loss. In my case I became deathly afraid of anesthesia after my anesthesiologist botched putting me out for one of my ECT sessions, resulting in at least 7 seconds where I was still entirely conscious, but unable to talk, breathe, or kick my legs - completely paralyzed. After that I feel I know now what the final throes of death are like after being deprived of oxygen, which is why I'll never consider asphyxiation methods.