Fuck. I don’t know. What is it even, anymore? It’s like, yeah ok, we don’t know the meaning of life… no one does, I get it. But somehow, the question “why” seems particularly pressing lately. Going through crazy bipolar swings. This pandemonium. What’s the point?
Am I supposed to be… learning some transcendent lesson about ultimate chaos, coming to terms with meaninglessness, and accepting it? It’s like one minute, everything seems so hopeless and inexplicable, then for a brief moment, I feel like I’m able to get my head above the fog and see where I’m going… but then, just as suddenly as it came, it’s gone again.
I mean I THINK I’m getting things accomplished and making progress, but how do I really know? It could just as easily be that everything I’m working so hard to achieve is actually just bringing about my own ultimate downfall. I kind of really don’t want to live this life anymore, but I mean, I don’t know that suicide would be any better, so I feel like there’s NO options for me, not even that one.
Lately, I don’t sleep much, I’m not really hungry so I rarely eat, it seems I can’t even get myself high anymore. What’s happening to me, it’s like I’m just… becoming Doctor Manhattan from Watchmen, minus the super powers, though… completely detached from all reality. What’s the point, what do I even do anymore? Everything seems meaningless.