life goes on hey
1000000 million things you could do in life, but no desire to pick any?
why do we do anything other than eventual reprisal for not doing anything? don't work, starve? don't date, die alone?
if you're alone long enough you start tho think about it. we're afraid always but all options can look terrible too. it is impossible for me to even get out of bed now, personally. i don't move, eat, sleep or do anything. if my life is so infinitesimally small, why not join the billions of people who have already died? did they lives matter so much too? why would mine? if life's a ratrace i'll come last. fuck it. so tired