"...I'm writing on a little piece of paper/I'm hoping someday you might find/well I'll hide it behind something/they won't look behind..." - Nine Inch Nails, Every Day Is Exactly The Same
Here we go, again. Another project doomed to fail before it starts. Things I'll say and never do, it's not your fault I just lack the will to follow through.
The backstory: a mid 30s lazy, antisocial, melodramatic grump stuck in his own personal hell as a burntout lower level manager drone putting stat points in being an alcoholic and rapidly spiraling toward a mid-life crisis, struggling to stay relevant as the years go by.
I go back and forth, trying to find a point to all this. Should I say something or should I keep my mouth shut? Ultimately, I want to unburden myself of some of this self loathing, despite worrying that it's all just left over teen angst long past it's expiration date. My latest big fear - my father passed away rather unexpectedly when I was a teenager. Some years later, speaking with his common law wife, she told me she thought he had decided he was unable provide any sort of better life for me and my brother and just gave up on life. Despite not having kids, I'm worried that I'm only a few years away from that same realization and just calling it. There has to be something more than this - going to a job you hate every day only to come home and wait to do it all over again tomorrow. Right?