Do people actually enjoy life? I’ve known, superficially, people that appear happy, but I have a suspicion it’s all an elaborate act. Life’s mundane, and boring. It’s all the fucking same. Go anywhere on the planet, the people are all the same, doing all the same things, in slight variations.

Nature’s an unimaginative joke. Clones of clones with variations. Much wow. Much spiraturality. Those giant rocks changed my life. That whale spoke to me personally. That tree healed me. Are people fucking serious? Are people so cognitively inept that being reminded that there’s things outside themselves, alive or not, is a life affirming act?

I just want to disappear. The older I get the more dissapointed I become. There’s nothing here that gives any sense of joy. Medication doesn’t work. Therapies don’t work. Self-aware life is hell. If anyone’s happy or content their self-awareness must be sufficiently limited. Blah, blah, blah. Just rambling. I hate this. People who have children are the worst.