Things keep falling apart. I’m falling apart. My interest is waning more and more. I convince myself to stop going to lectures sometimes. What’s the point. Got a zero for not presenting today. Felt nothing. I’ve always taken pride in my smarts. It was the one thing that I had. But what has it gotten me? All they are, are letters and numbers on paper. A’s, B’s, C’s, D’s. 100, 90, 80, 50, 0. What’s the difference between them. They haven’t made me happy. They don’t make the loneliness go away. They don’t let me see my purpose. What do they matter? This cycle is repetitious. The very act of breathing and waking and sleeping is very repetitious. Even this part. The part were I start losing it. It’s all the same. It’s a system that doesn’t really have any output. It just repeats for the sake of repeating. Happiness has just as little meaning as depression. Neither have any real purpose. They just are because they are. I’m talking nonsense. I’m not even really speaking english. Not really. Why do I enjoy somethings but not other things. I’m not really good at anything. The sort of thing is best left to them. They are willing to go through it, so it’s best that it’s left to them right. Some people just weren’t meant to be… them be them. Ok I guess. There it is I guess.
2 comments
Have you tried tutoring kids on the subject you enjoy the most?
You either finish it or it finishes you.