Count your blessings, not your sorrows. Be glad to be alive. Enjoy what you have. Focus on the good. Who cares if you never have much fun. You’re supposed to be grateful you’re not in Darfur. But I almost wonder if having to focus on something that mattered like trying to survive from moment to moment might almost be preferable to the slow killing of a mind and spirit. At least having to focus on survival, having to work at existing in an immediate manner might be preferable to knowing without equivocation that your mind is being wasted and that no matter what you do no matter how hard you try no matter if you try not trying no matter what you do no matter no matter no matter you still end up facing that same fucking brick wall and sick to death of it. Bonk. Turn left. Bonk. Turn left. Bonk. Turn left. Bonk. Turn left. Bonk. Turn right. Bonk. Turn right. Bonk. Turn right. Bonk. Turn right. Bonk. Go up. Bonk. Go down. Bonk. It is a brick box. There is no way out of it. Suffocation. Stagnation. See a light? It’s a nerve firing in your brain. Go get a pill to wrap your brain in cellophane let it pretend it is not in a brick box let it pretend you have a point.
I need a brain transplant.