One in the morning is not a good time to be considering existential thoughts regarding my place in the world and the effect I have upon it one way or another. But that hasn't stopped the self-criticizing portion of my brain. Even as I type, my mind keeps drifting off to whether or not the world would be better off if I wasn't around, and just how much better the world would be if I weren't here. (The part that is thinking this is biased - I'm certain of it.)
I'm tired enough that more complicated tasks are proving to be increasingly challenging. At the same time, I am aware enough that I can recognize the pointlessness of my own existence. I sit, hunched over, wondering why I bother persisting with my empty excuse for a life. I also wonder when the keyboard was last cleaned, as there is an unsettling amount of dirt particulate built up down below and between the keys.
I am contributing nothing to this world. I'm just existing, taking up space, using resources. I can no longer even muster up enthusiasm for things I used to find enjoyable, or at least sufficiently distracting that I forgot the pain of existence.
I really should go to bed. It is late, and I am tired. Maybe everything will look better after several hours of sleep. Or maybe they won't. I do enjoy sleeping though.
It lets me forget about everything for a little while.
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