11/06/2011

Today, I did my laundry.  And I did some of my chemistry homework.  I have an exam on Friday that I do not care about.  It all seems irrelevant.  As long as I pass the class, I’ll get the transfer credit.  Who cares if I do well. 

I started taking melatonin for my insomnia.  This is probably a terrible idea, as it has been said to cause (or worsen) depression.  If my depression gets worse, maybe I’ll finally feel bad enough to kill myself and stop being so indecisive about it.  That would be nice.

Right now I’m having some hard cider to go with my melatonin.  This seems like a terrible idea as well.  However, 24 years of responsible decisions has fucked me over about as much as 24 years of poor decisions would have.  So it’s time for some bad ones.

It doesn’t matter, anyway.  Everything I say is completely meaningless.  Everything I do is meaningless.  I was going to write a song about nihilism but it seemed pointless. 

I might as well just get on with it.

Everyone always wants the story to have a happy ending.  Sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes it’s not, “I was depressed, but I came out of it.”  It’s just “I was depressed, and stayed that way for 12 years.”  It’s a terrible story, and no one wants to hear it.  There’s no heroism, no plucky protagonist, just failure and loneliness and worthless whining.  That’s my life story.

Failure.

Loneliness.

Whining.