Whatafreak

What is the point? I feel like I am working myself to death.

What is the end goal? I am missing something that everyone else seems to understand.

What am I doing wrong? I didn’t get the instruction manual for life.

What about my mistakes? I can’t seem to dig myself out from under the large pile of debt and failed career choices I have made.

Every day is the same.

Every week is the same.

Every month is the same.

Every year is the same.

No one knows how I truly feel about anything. No one will ever know how I truly feel about anything. I don’t know how I feel about anything. I feel almost nothing. It’s empty in here.

I haven’t cried in years. I laugh rarely. I never feel love, or hate. Nor remorse, pity, excitement, or inspiration.

I sleep for inordinately large amounts of time these days, though. It’s good because it cuts out large swaths of time that I no longer have to be awake for. I can literally sleep nearly all of Saturday away in one go (20 hours). If I can let myself go, I can easily sleep for more than 12 hours at a time. I’m not sure why this is relevant.

I’ve re-”enabled” my site for the time being. I’d locked the permissions on the files and directories into such a state that it took me quite a while to restore everything to working order.

I brought the site back as a record or an archive of my posts. I am not proud of most of them.

Not much has changed in the last 8 months or so. I typically sleep all day Saturday now. Seriously. All day. I went to sleep at 2am on Friday night, woke up at 10pm Saturday. 20 hours. I doubt that’s normal, and it isn’t even for me. Usually I get up in the afternoon. Not today.

I’m finding myself wondering a lot these days. I wonder why.

First-world problems? Sure, I got ‘em. It seems hard to justify any of the thoughts or feelings I have when so many other people are far more worse off than I. My ruminations on a meaningless existence seem stupid and pointless themselves.

I don’t yearn or strive for anything. Seriously. I don’t know what the hell I’ll do with myself if I ever get my debt payed off. That is the only goal I have right now; it’s my only plan. I’m not sure I’d feel any better if I had some fanciful, impossible goal.

What’s the reason of stumbling through life? I struggle to reconcile the concepts of purpose and meaning with what I see is pointless. What is the point of working for forever only to waste away and lose it all in the end?

I’m learning that my dumb desire for new, fancy things and new, fancy experiences is merely an expression of my complete and total boredom. I’m bored with everything. I don’t feel excited about anything anymore. I used to love playing video games, but that’s totally lost its luster. In fact, I don’t think I feel any emotions at all.

Why?

Stupid.