A General Review of Life. Mine, Specifically.

What I want more than anything else in the world is nothing. Sure I want tons of stuff seeing as I am probably the most materialistic person I know; thing is, I have no burning desire to acquire anything beyond everything at all. I just cavort through life in a seemingly pointless manner.

I say, where are the days when romance was the The Thing? When it was all or nothing? When things like love and hate, good and evil, beauty and truth were defined in absolutes? It’s just probably, no, definitely me, but an inordinate number of things in life in general strike me as bland and ascetic. To my mind, the level of artificiality in the 21st century has risen to dizzying, depressing, and suicidal heights. Fuck it. Sure this is the Age of Raging Hormones, of Capitalism, of Rock n’ Roll, of Homosexuality, and a bunch of other seemingly romantic notions. But it all seems to me superficial, manufactured, and shallow. I think deep down, something is dying within the human race. Something important (imagine Gandalf or Aslan saying this, I swear you won’t snigger).

I’m pretty sure I’m sounding like one heck of a bored, bitter girl right now. Well FYI I’m not. I live a fun life. I have great friends, okay grades, and my romantic situation is doing particularly well. I mean, yeah, it’s fun. Everything’s so fun and happy and good, and I say this with a minimum amount of sarcasm.

It’s all fun. But pointless.

What have I done in 19 years? I won a few academic competitions which gave me an enormous ego fuck back in high school, but I hardly remember them now, much less the feeling. Medals are dead, cold, useless things. They’re only warm four-point-five seconds after some honcho hangs them on your stringy neck.

With the above-mentioned wisdom gained so early, I do not attempt to spend my college days as I did in high school. ‘Reclusive’ would be a fair adjective to describe my activities in the university. To go back to the question: what have I done in 19 years? Nothing too important. I just exist. Period. So now what?

Maybe I need a religion. You know, one of those thingummys that keep a lot of people in an opium-high. It would be, like, everything I do and don’t do would have a reason, a point! Whenever I feel miserable I’d have a good explanation: it’d be [insert name of deity HERE]’s will. The package would come with set, working morals, commandments, an afterlife and all those other stuff that keep people half-sane. Yeah. Religion appears to be a brilliant idea.

But like I keep asking: who would I be kidding? I don’t indulge in blind faith, too bad for me. Religion takes too much of that, and I don’t know how long I can keep it up, assuming that I can rationalize it to existence first. No deal.

Ah hell, don’t mind me. I’m just having one of those existential fits again. Do carry on, I just need a donut, and I’ll resume being happy.