There is literally nothing to do and the crushing void of it all begins to destroy me within minutes of waking up from my nap.

Life is so meaningless.

It’s amazing how effectively destructive to its onw citizens people have made their culture and civilization.


I think I’ve realized it, what I want to do:

I want to do something. I wake up, I was lying in bed just now again, it’s super comfy, awesome recharge, and I think and ponder, and I want… to go for a walk around campus.

I don’t live on a campus.

I live in a small suburban division in a slummy area in an industrial town in the East Bay.

Dreams shattered, friends.

Dreams shattered.

I can’t talk to my brother because he’s cold and pedantic and doesn’t show the smallest ioate of warmth toward me. He will itemize my statements and respond one-by-one with good this, bad that, yes / no okay hope it gets better. The blandest stupidest responses. No creativity or will whatsoever. What a way to communicate.

There is no one interesting in my life because there is no one interesting on the planet.

Game over, funks. Game over.

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