Sitting on the floor of a freshly vacuumed empty room, that only days ago housed my entire existence, struck me as uncomfortably metaphorical. The room is empty, the house continues, people come and I am gone.
I am fifteen again, living at home, no job or partner or other engaging distractions to fill the void. Have never felt quite so alone. But what they hey. Silver lining would be to see everything as an opportunity, a catalyst to kick me into gear and take advantage of some newfound total freedom, with or without the finances to realise any unfulfilled ambitions. Ultimately however positive thinking doesn't come quite as naturally as I had hoped, and the day to day struggle becomes one of differentiating between self-loathing and self-pity. Wondering what next I am going to inadvertedly or naievely fuck up.
DEPRESSING SHIT AYE
Two can play at that game, Eamonn.
Woot
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