Good evening.

Today is Sunday.
And you know what Sundays are good for?
MOANING.

Remember your last “bad day”?
Where you feel that everything is going wrong.
When you look in the mirror you taunt yourself, “What is wrong with you?! God you’re so stupid! And ugly! And really really PATHETIC.”
People don’t help either, do they.
“You’re in a mood today,” yeah, I do know that, thanks. Your pointing-out-the-obvious doesn’t get me into a better mood so just go and eat your damn toast.
Bad days always start with burnt toast.

You know when you start feeling blue, and your chest aches like your lungs and stomach and heart are filled with something really heavy. Something like tar.
Your eyes don’t see people or objects, just sees right through them into your own mind and your own thoughts.

Where it’s not that you don’t want to do your work, it’s that you can’t concentrate enough to do it. Then when you can, you just think “What is the point in my doing this, i’ll only have to do more afterwards.”

What is the point?

I get asked that a lot.

“Lights Out,” They say, “What is the point to life?”.

That depends, doesn’t it, I say, do you want the truth? Or something beautiful.

I could tell you that we’re here to do our best, fall in love, have children and mould them into wonderful human beings.

Or I could tell you the truth, that we are born to be born, we procreate to insure that our species does not die out and then we die, maybe old but definitely alone.

Is there a third option?

Yes, there is in fact a third option.

That there is no point. That is the point.
There is no end point, there is nothing to work towards.
You make your own point.
The point is that there is no point!

Imagine thinking all this.

Imagine that bad day again.

And then picture what it would be like to live that bad day over and over and over for six months.
Then imagine someone tells you that you will always have a bad day, it will never get better, you will always burn your toast, yell at yourself in the mirror and your body will always be full of tar.
Imagine that you have a best friend that is so narcissistic and self absorbed that all they can talk about is bile about how other people are ugly and fat and stupid.
Imagine you can talk to only one person about this but you feel so weak and stupid that you believe you are wasting their time by telling them and so you don’t talk to anyone.

Welcome to my life.