Good morning. I hope you have a beautiful day!
My day shall be filled with a horror-filled angst, an all-encomposing hatred that will ooze out into acts of murder and madness. Every single day is a constant series of disappointments, crushing defeats, petty revenges, upheavals and routs, loathed outcomes manifested, horrifying choices, antagonism and misery, lonely torment, anxiety and despair, a despondent sorrow that cannot break. Life is the darkness that only death itself can quench. The pain of existing outweighs the anguish of angst-ridden desolation in all ways.
After all, it is pointless to exist. The insufferable ennui of the drudgery of simple existance destroys, like a cancer in my heart, the shallow vanity of life. All that I ever do, all that I ever think, speak, or see: my life, my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my emotions, they all have no meaning, or effect, or hope, whatsoever. A lifetime of messing things up -- no more important than if I had succeeded in all my efforts -- both without meaning and without purpose. The wisps and cobwebs of this temporary reality have falsely proclaimed themselves as real, and in it's doing, destroyed all they touched.
Other than that, I'm good!
It’s Super Bowl Sunday. America’s great religious holiday but a lot of us here are heretics these days. :)