Enough is Enough

I can't think of anything to say anymore man. I don't know what to make of the world anymore. I've lost my philosophies, my personal perspectives, and have found only confusion. What tends to sound the best is what is real in life.  Things that have truly happened, stories that can be related to, what if I have nothing but fables, a series of untold lies and bullshit based on nothing but the pathos of the the human psyche. Nothing but the cynical method of thinking that I have. It's not really that interesting, nothing in life is really that interesting. I've tried writing about happy thoughts, but I guess unicorns, ponies, and pretty fucking flowers aren't my thing. I have been running from sadness my whole life. Yet, I find some sort of fucked up solace in it. As though by being able to acknowledge negativity, I feel smarter. That might be the biggest bullshit in the world, but in some way I find it true. As though I can allow myself to understand other people in their weak moments, because I know what it's like to feel like shit. That sounds corny, fuck that. I am closer to people because we both know what it's like to have shitty lives. That sounds better. But, still, from a more intelligent view I think my sadness connects me to people. It's like I'm Jesus, only I'm not lying about my fake prophecy and I don't have schizophrenia, yet. I don't know, nobody reads this shit anyway. Life exists because death is too fucking boring. Nothing is really that important to get mad over. Yet, we're all bound to get pissed off at some point. So we should just learn to deal with it. If you can't, I can't either, but I guess it makes sense to just keep all my emotions bottled up until death. That's how to win. All see you all in hell, but I'll be watching from heaven, with Satan.