Everyday I'd go to my meaningless job, and everyday I'd come home to my meaningless house. I'd watch a meaningless sitcom, eat a meaningless dinner, and have meaningless sleep. Then repeat everything.

Everything seems meaningless when your life is meaningless. Every night I would wonder why I didn't take the gun I used to protect myself and just destroy myself. Destroy the meaninglessness. Destroy the lackluster life I live. But I never do it. I don't have the guts, now do I? I've got meaningless morale. I can't step up to the big things in life, like death. So, I just live like life is a funeral, and everyone there is about to die, so it makes it worse. To be surrounded by slowly dieing people is morbid and depressing, but that's how life is. Everyone is on an enlongated crash to death, we just don't think about the crash and we don't accept that it will happen. We just drive and drive and listen to the radio station of emotions. The passenger is our lover, our partner, our loves of our lives. We stop for funerals and realizations, and we stop for weddings and become oblivious again.

It's probably just some angst bullshit, your therapist would say, you just aren't secure with who you are right now. Then prescribe you with useless anti-depressants that you don't take so you don't get 'better'. I don't want to get better. I want to have all this angsty deppression borderline personality disorder bullshit. I want to have all of the things that I should have grown out of my freshman year of college. I want it to keep pulsing through my brain because it makes me feel better. Knowing-- or at least wishing-- that you have a mental disorder is kind of comforting, isn't it? It's the security of knowing that you aren't normal, and if you lead a normal mental disorder free life it would be sad and confusing. It's something to blame all of your shit on. It's something to make you say "well that isn't my fault I murdered a person, I have anti-social personality disorder" "i wouldn't be so clingy if I didn't have dependent personality disorder" "no, no, it's not that I don't trust you really, it's just that I suffer from paranoia so it's something I was born with, trust me". It's great to have somthing to blame that's not your own stupid mistakes. It's fucking great.

I wanted something more to my life than just this. I wanted something to make me feel something. No, it wasn't a significant other. I don't fix things with another person to depend on, and with someone who depends on me. I can't handle that. I just can't.

Sometimes you do things for the love of it.

Sometimes you do things because they need to be done.

Sometimes you do things for the thrill of it.

I tried to do it for the thrill of it, but still couldn't feel any thrill. I couldn't feel anything.

I see people smiling on the street and want to punch them in the face. No, I'm not jeleous, I'm not angry, I don't have repressed anything, mister therapist, they just should realize what I have. They should realize that when you go through life smiling someone is going to punch you in the face, and after rolling with the punches for so long that smile weakens and a frown becomes your umbrella. The truth of the matter is that smiles do jack shit for being an umbrella. You hold it up and it fills with water, slowly weighing you down, then you collapse, break your leg and are covered with water. Let that frown help you ward off all of the water and broken legs. That's what half of the population does. They aren't clouded with Care Bear fantasy happy stories like you are.

And neither am I.

Then I met Shirley.