I don’t know why I am on this planet when I hate living. I have no dreams, no desires, nothing. I don’t even want a job since I have no use for the money I would earn with it. A house? No, what use is a house to someone who hates being alive. A car? No, it is too much of a temptation to use it to drive off something with it. A family? No, I can’t stand humans. Food? No, I have no real desire to eat and only eat to keep up appearances of being human. Fun? No, the pleasure derived from it is too vain and fleeting to sustain living. I’m tired of dragging this bothersome sack of flesh around when all I want to do is lie down and die.
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1 comment
I have been in this place before, and im very sorry you find yourself in this place now.
Just be careful. You dont have to take your own life, but every empty day you live makes it harder to come back from that later down the road, should you decide someday that theres something out of life you’d like. Even if that something is as hedonistic and simple as having sex.
Time is a quicksand, and the climb into a happy life gets harder the longer you stay still.
In any case, Im sorry you feel this way, and I wish you well