Once More (without feeling)

I’m sure I’ve written many variations of this here before, but what the hell.

I’m a failure, as a human being. By pretty much any standard you can think of. That’s not going to change. There’s no future version of me that doesn’t feel alone, anxious and exhausted all the time. That can be happy and relaxed around others.

I can’t change the past. I can’t control the way I feel. I can’t really change the world we live in. These things are not mine to decide.

And yet here I am, still alive. For the foreseeable future. So, what do I want to do with this undeserved abundance of vitality?

Nothing.

Nothing feels good. No goal seems worthwhile. Even suicide. I’m stuck in this no man’s land, where all is grey insignificance.

The world keeps spinning. We westerners go on living our happy privileged lives. Everyone else keeps on striving so that they (or their children) can someday have the same.

And I’m just…..here. I’m an absence. A void. A negation of the human spirit. Nothing seems good anymore. In truth it hasn’t for many years. I’ve just become tired of pretending.