Vaguely, Humanity.

I think that I am going insane.

I no longer feel human.  I feel empty and jaded.  Sometimes when I forget about him, or about my life in general, and I find the peace within myself to do something I used to love, I am at ease.  But I am crazy.

Life has become so exhausting.  I fear any relationships I form with people at this point are a matter of convenience.  I fucking hate people.

Was I ever thoughtful and compassionate and trusting?  Was it all just a dream?  I feel like I am not even sentient anymore.  Like I am just a mental mishap drifting between death and dormancy.

Even at my worst, in my old life but a memory, I had pride in some things.  I am confident in my writing, my soul, my capacity to do good by other people; In my old life.

Why do I have a job where I spend all day being scrutinized and socialized and standardized by ass-hat socialites?  Why do I have friends who I in earnest have nothing in common with?  Why do I even have friends?  Why do I employ effort in humanity at all when I don’t consider myself to walk amongst it?

I no longer conform to life.  I am no longer breathing.  I am drifting, and agonizing, and dying.  One day I will be dead.  It will be enough.

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