It is pointless to exist. The insufferable ennui of the drudgery of simple existence destroys, like a cancer in my heart, the shallow vanity of life. All that I ever do, all that I ever think, speak, or see: my life, my dreams, my hopes, my fears, my emotions, they all have no meaning, or effect, or hope, whatsoever. A lifetime of screwing things up — no more important than if I had succeeded in all my efforts — both without meaning and without purpose. The wisps and cobwebs of this temporary reality have falsely proclaimed themselves as real, and in it’s doing, destroyed all they touched.
Ok Laz, Sit down, have a cup of hot cider and hold a puppy. You will feel better. Careful of your pants, the puppy is not totally trained yet.
You use your...keyboard...purdier than a twenty dollar...
In other words, “Life sucks, then you die!”