I don’t know. I want it all. I have to work for it, this is America where only Royal Colonial Slavery (RCS) gets you to the top. Except you got to be skilled, not hard-working. Yes hard working.

Luna lovegood with her top half of jaw ripped off.

What a sight.

I’m so flustered.

Help me.

I have so many emotions.

No one can help me.

What should I be doing?

I should be studying.

Oh fuck here we go again. Missing the elephant in the room. It’s such a strong feeling. It could be fake.

I should be studying for my career and I’m to unmotivated to do so.

The lamotrigine should help me with my poor motivation and other depressive symptoms.

Mom’s googling for easy ways to combat the akathisia. I’m so done with all of this.

Something about Messi in the news, eh?

I just feel so cut off from the world. Why. Why do I have no role, no significance. I can’t change anything.

Nothing I say here matters, either.

It’s all so pointless.

I wonder if writing makes my condition worse.

I just have to study data science and why can’t I? Why can’t I? And if I can’t now, imagine how hard my career is going to be.

I’m fucked. I don’t know what to say. I’m just fucked.

I should stop all my donations for now.

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