Life is so meaningless. I don’t know what to do but write. I don’t know how I’m going to survive even existing this week. I want to take the week off, just forego my paycheck for the week, but fuck, I feel so obliged to work. I hate it. If I lived on my own I would have such a different life. I don’t like people or dealing with them, I never know what degree of kindness or understanding I’ll receive, but some people just put so much pressure on you, it’s cruel and unfair.
Some paranoia. Feel like twitch streamers are reading my thoughts, like family are spying on me online. Not fun.
Shivering. Stiff muscles. Too much kratom. Lots of nausea medication. I don’t know what is causing what. I don’t feel too good.
I just don’t want to go to work tomorrow. Fuck. -_-
I hate my life. I’m just saying that, it’s great, I have a lot. But I don’t appreciate any of it.
There’s so much “in between” time. The action is sparse. Why can’t there be more eventfulness to everything? The scene is dull, stiff, boring. I don’t know. I don’t know how else to describe it.
How much of this is my lens distorting reality? I don’t know. Making changes to the writing that you’ll never be aware of. I’m sorry. The greats that were. And the greats… that never were. That never will be. Who was supposed to exist and change the world for the better, but didn’t? There are so many missed opportunities to our society. I don’t want to think about it.
Brother got me a Chipotle burrito. When he gave it to me, he said, “Here you go,” like I was a stray dog. So kindly…
I don’t know what to say. I only feel alright when I’m writing in here. When I’m blogging. I feel terrible on Twitter, I feel terrible watching Twitch. I don’t want to advertise or deal with advertising of my new book on Amazon. Seems like it costs money? Or am I missing something? Is it pay per click? I don’t get it.
I desperately need help, but I don’t know anyone. At the same time, I don’t have the luxury of solitude for some reason. Because of my paranoia, I think. People always invading my mind. Complete strangers on the internet, or bare acquaintances. It’s sad.
And what does sad mean? I don’t know. Pathetic? Or depressive? Which are we talking about? I never knew, when someone would say in such a context. But this reminds me of Amber, who is long gone and was kind of a bitch who I ALSO had Stockholm Syndrome toward. Ugh. I just can’t have normal relationships, can I…
I guess I should take my pills. I don’t know how to fix my life. Why is therapy so inefficacious. I don’t get it. Nothing ever happens. Nothing.