give a fuck.
I am very tired.
Tired of failing every single fucking day of my life to life up to any sort of standard I set for myself. Whether that's because the standards are too high or not, I just can't meet them.
So I've gradually stopped setting them.
I can't live a single fucking day that I don't feel was wasted. My labours seem always inadequate, and even when I can acquit myself of the charge of laziness, my labours seem to achieve much too little.
So I wander through my days in a kind of stupid autopilot, unable to get off it. Inspiration, ideas, enthusiasm frighten me because I know I will be on autopilot again before I can ever make anything of them.
Some people are plagued by bad health all their lives, poverty, drugs, some miserable family situation, some terrible character flaw, whatever.
With me, it's just pissing everything away. I can't figure out how much of this is my fault and how much of it is just the inevitable imperfection we are all saddled with one way or the other.
The wealth of my mind and my soul is buried in junk.