Her

I dreamed of her again. It's been a while since the last time. This one was simple, though it's already foggy in my head from when I awoke half a day ago. I believe it was just her and I, the two of us, hanging out. I don't know where, I don't know when or how, but I don't think any of that mattered. All that mattered was that we were together. I was in her presence, and she in mine. It was nice, but when I woke, I was sad. Sad again. Sad thinking of her and what she meant to me way back when.

I know what the dream means. It's not quite that I miss her, though I may. It's that I'm so desperate, so lonesome, so hopeless anymore that I'm reaching back, trying to go back in time and grab on to anything that made me feel better than I do now. She hurt me so badly, worse than she'll ever know. She left a festering wound in my "heart", or what's left of it, that, at this rate, will never heal. Even after all that, I'm desperate enough to reach out to her to give me even a sliver of comfort. To grab on to that hope that maybe, just maybe she liked me. That maybe, just maybe ANY girl ever liked me. To give myself even the tiniest bit of self-esteem instead of all the self-loathing I've been consumed with for years. But no, it's pointless. She never liked me. No girl ever liked me. That is a fact that will continue on and on until... I don't know when.

Today was one of those dark days. Those days where you wake up groggy, sluggish, and never feel right all day. It wasn't the dream, though that certainly didn't help. It really wasn't anything in particular. It just... was. Probably the results of my overall "life" weighing down on me. The nonstop nothingness, all my effort wasted no matter what I do. It left me in a dark, dark place. Very bleak, little to no hope, thinking that I might as well not even try anymore. I may not even live anymore, and I know that's a horrible thought. But everything feels so pointless. Such a waste of time. I'm too much of a burden on everyone, especially myself. I just...

I hate myself. I hate everything that I've become. I hate how all of my potential was pissed away with the passing of time. I'm nothing anymore. I'm barely living. I'm a shell. I'm surprised I breathe. I'm surprised my heart still beats. I feel so hollow. I hate how I feel. I hate it so much.

I hate the world. I hate how the world truly turned out to be. I hate how hopeful I was, bright-eyed and naive, and now I realize how shitty this world is. I hate how illogical everything is. How unfair, how unbalanced, how goddamn fucking stupid the world is. Good people are shafted and evil people prosper. Hard work doesn't pay off. Being lazy, putting out sub-par work is completely and utterly acceptable. Why bother busting your ass when you'll get nothing out if it? I don't see the point anymore.

I hate everyone for ignoring me, for neglecting me. I hate how they go on with their lives, their shitty jobs, their shallow, stupid relationships, and don't even notice how far I've fallen. None of them know how truly depressed I am. And if they do know, they don't fucking show it. They are assholes. They are selfish. They are pieces of shit. Yet I'm desperate for their attention. Even the tiniest bit would make me feel as if I have a reason for existing anymore.

Why do I exist? Why is it that my best friend, Eric Braunstein, died eight and a half years ago, yet I'm still alive? Why? I'm fairly sure he would have graduated from college, met a nice girl, settled down, gotten married, probably would have had a kid or two by now. He could have had a life. While I have no life, almost no friends, no females who give a fucking shit about me EVER, I get to keep on "living". But he didn't? I don't understand it. Why him? Why me? They say God does everything for a reason, but why the FUCK did he do that???

And I really hate how I've been bitching about these same problems for over five years now. Five fucking years, and no fucking change. I'm still lonely. I'm still miserable. I'm still without any sense of a "relationship". No girl I've ever been interested in has been interested in me. No girl AT ALL has ever liked me. I stay at home all the time, though I don't have much of a choice in that regard. I don't have a job. I try to do things to make money, like websites or photography or now Android apps, but it's a waste of time, it seems, just like everything else I do. When will things change? When will things EVER FUCKING CHANGE, GODDAMMIT???

I need God to give me a purpose. I need a sign. I need someone to tell me why I still exist on this earth when people like my best friend are dead, and have been dead for a long time. I don't understand. I need to have a reason. I need to have hope. I need to have something, anything that'll keep me going, cuz I'm running out of energy. Running out of effort. I'm afraid that before too long, I'll do nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'll lay in bed all day long, every day, and let the rest of my years slip away.

And the worst part? Nobody will even notice. :(

*****

By the way, haven't used this blog in about two years. Feel pretty bad about that. Maybe I can post my thoughts on here more than once every 700 days or so. Hopefully not all SUPER DEPRESSING stuff, though. That'd be nice.