If it weren't for the little things, like my brother, I'd have lost it long ago. Like perhaps I wouldn't still be here, because I know and you all know that I don't want to be here. And the temptation to not be here is so great at times it's hard to remember why I am.

The effort of living seems pointless and without result. You just plug away and plug away and do your shit, the shit you need to get done, and then you waste away watching all the shit you thought you needed to get done fall apart, because really, it WAS just all shit, and it didn't really need to get done, you just did it because there's nothing else to do and doing it made you feel like there really IS a reason for life on this planet.

So far, I haven't seen any good arguments to convince me there IS a reason.

I know this was depressing. Way to wreck wtf's funny entry, I know. But maybe I see through her a little bit?