time shouldn't be represented in a line. it's really just a single point (thank you margaret atwood). the past exists only in memory and the future is obviously indeterminable. i'm waiting for the day i wake up at fifty (should i live that long) and think back to when i was 25 and say to myself "fuck it seems like a minute ago". these thoughts pervading my mind almost make me want to end it all right now and just get it over with. not because i'm depressed or immersed in self pity or anything (which i coincidentally am), but just because one day i'll be getting chemotherapy and pissing into a bag and will only be able to think about what a waste my life was. i'm 25 right now and am already doing it (regretting wasted time, not pissing in a bag). what's worse is i have no clue how to prevent such a situation. no path i can think of seems like it wouldn't be an utter meaningless existence, which really isn't my fault. i should just be embittered that all lifestyles available are shit and curse the universe for forcing me to choose one. i'd like to be a rock star (how original) but that would probably entail me getting out of bed at some point, so fuck it. it's not a really purposeful life anyway. i'll just wallow in my outward and inward contempt until i have to go to the store to buy food.
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