Reasons to be cheerful: part zero

I wish I could think of one good reason to be alive. I'm really searching for one right now.

I know I suffered a trauma recently. One I don't even want to talk about here. Is that why? I don't know.

My one best friend tells me to find a therapist. The drugs don't work anymore. My simpleton shrink recommended I be industrious (as if I haven't been working hard enough just to fucking survive). Yes, I shall become a Captian of Industry; because we all know that's the cure for everything.

I can't find any redemption in reality. Nothing appeals to me. Except being left the fuck alone. Yes, I have a bad attitude. What's new pussycat?

The things I have to face next are no more appealing than what has gone before.

I'm sick of wasting my life stuck in this life.

I exist on a short tether, which is getting shorter by the day.

I don't know why my parents had children when they should have had indentured servants. My father has already told me what I'm going to do next, but he never asked.

I wish I could disappear. If only I could commit a crime, or get see some deed committed that would get me put into the witness protection program, and none of my family would ever find me and fuck up my life again. Hell, I've already lost 37 years, I think I should be entitled to the next 37 on my own terms.

If I can't get away from them, living like this will surely make me want to die.