the fallacies of future
Sorry mate!
Bad day, bad year, bad decade, bad mental health.
The only thing that gets me excited is the possibility that I will succumb to an untimely death in the next few weeks/days/hours.
Haven't got the guts to kill myself (although said action features heavily on my 'to do' list), so I am forced to just exist, doing other people's bidding and satisfying the demands of rules pre-determined by the 'greater good'..
I place no demands on myself, because I haven't got a benchmark in terms of what has to be done and why. The last 13 years of my life have been unfortunate, another 13 would be a disaster. Have nothing left to offer the world. No longer interested in offering the world anything. But tomorrow I'll wake up again.
I hear your cries of 'WHIMP', 'SPINELESS' and similar pseudomacho utterings, but frankly I am indifferent. it takes guts to take your own life, it doesn't take guts to stay alive and never question why. Once you have exhausted all the things that you could possibly look forward too, you are left with a vacuum of pure breathing, eating and defecating.
I thought these things would get better as you got older - they just seem to get worse. At least in the haze of youth some optimism and belief in the purpose of things would sneak past the firewall of life and enter that irrational part of your consciousness called hope.
The older you get, the more you realise that it is just that.
I inhabit this planet with the rest of mankind and beast alike, I just don't particularly want to.
I hate moaning, and I have to apologise, but beyond getting so wasted that I pass out nothing stirs my blood. Cancer is good. If I got it, I would refuse treatment.
Spending your last few months 'alive' propped up on morphine sounds ideal to me.
I want to leave nothing behind, I want to my make my exit like I made my entrance. Naked, delirious and completely in the care of professionals. Working is such a drag.
Bad day, bad year, bad decade, bad mental health.
The only thing that gets me excited is the possibility that I will succumb to an untimely death in the next few weeks/days/hours.
Haven't got the guts to kill myself (although said action features heavily on my 'to do' list), so I am forced to just exist, doing other people's bidding and satisfying the demands of rules pre-determined by the 'greater good'..
I place no demands on myself, because I haven't got a benchmark in terms of what has to be done and why. The last 13 years of my life have been unfortunate, another 13 would be a disaster. Have nothing left to offer the world. No longer interested in offering the world anything. But tomorrow I'll wake up again.
I hear your cries of 'WHIMP', 'SPINELESS' and similar pseudomacho utterings, but frankly I am indifferent. it takes guts to take your own life, it doesn't take guts to stay alive and never question why. Once you have exhausted all the things that you could possibly look forward too, you are left with a vacuum of pure breathing, eating and defecating.
I thought these things would get better as you got older - they just seem to get worse. At least in the haze of youth some optimism and belief in the purpose of things would sneak past the firewall of life and enter that irrational part of your consciousness called hope.
The older you get, the more you realise that it is just that.
I inhabit this planet with the rest of mankind and beast alike, I just don't particularly want to.
I hate moaning, and I have to apologise, but beyond getting so wasted that I pass out nothing stirs my blood. Cancer is good. If I got it, I would refuse treatment.
Spending your last few months 'alive' propped up on morphine sounds ideal to me.
I want to leave nothing behind, I want to my make my exit like I made my entrance. Naked, delirious and completely in the care of professionals. Working is such a drag.
posted by tseuq at 6/14/2005 02:37:00 pm
6 Comments:
Sounds like depression based on an achievement complex that is comprised mainly of feelings of non-achievement perpetuated mostly by depression about not achieving whatever said achievement is considered to be in perpetuity of depression hampering such achievement. I say re-evaluate the nature of achievement and its relationship to depression or blow yrself away and deal with it later... ;-)
Not now, I'm depressed.
pharmacology is the only way out. If you've ever envied stupid people for not having to think so much, I can recommend some prescriptions. take care
I am my own GP / drugstore, with emphasis on the latter.
Always looking for commended prescriptions, preferably the kind you can use in a pharmacy!
welbutrin/zyban (bupropinon): non-SSRI antidepressant with energising rather than sedating effect
Zoloft: SSRI that makes you feel happy. really.
avoid Prozac. sedating effects and makes you crave carbs. bad!
There's a good online compnay that does not require a prescription, is reasonably priced and ships to the UK from Vanuatu. If I weren't hungover I would remember the name.
inhousepharmacy.co.uk
Post a Comment
<< Home