I’m fairly certain this world doesn’t exist. it’s alllll just a dream. nothing here is real. not you. not this room. not the air, not the sky, not these “space” concepts that I have no way to understand. It’s all some farce. pulled over my eyes. wool over my eyes. Who is to say otherwise? You? If I am correct, than you are a manifested contrarian in “existence” for the sole purpose of trying to convince me I’m wrong. how convenient. yet ultimately necessary. There must be security for such a thing. Why else would I feel so trapped in life? I feel like there are signs. Impossibly unlikely things occurring. so many pointless coincidences that don’t even surprise me anymore. The dreams I have of meaningless events that happen weeks later.
I feel like I should not have desires. When they are fulfilled I quickly lose any sort of positive emotion, thus effectively making it pointless. Why live if you have no wishes? Why live if you are entirely unstimulated? Why exist. I am far from suicide. Don’t fret. These small wonderings are all I have to make me feel worth anything. In this life of pathetic wandering. All in an attempt to not be “bored”. To be occupied. To spend time with these other minds. For whatever purpose. It eludes me.
I don’t even have the ghost of an idea what would make me content. I wrack my brains and I am empty handed. What is the source of this? Why am I so troubled? What does money do for me? It is unnecessary to me. I have everything I need to survive. Because it is being given to me. when this flow of care runs out I fear what I will do. My quality of life as it is, with everything being given to me, is piss poor. Why would I want to work to live in this void of pointlessness? I gain nothing from living. No benefits.
Why did I even type this?
