That is a picture of the chair next to my desk. Ludum Dare was this past weekend, but that’s a pretty weak excuse. It’s Thursday. I’d like to blame depression, but when I’m feeling good I still can’t be fucked. I’m an okay adult in many regards. I have fair credit, I don’t borrow money I can’t afford to repay, I have dental insurance. But I’m balls at housekeeping and I can’t get better. It doesn’t matter how much or how little time I have, I always use it to do nothing. Right now, I should be cleaning my living room, but I’m writing a blog post. That chair will continue to look like that until my self loathing surpasses the terrifying impediment of my inertia.
I wish I was religious. I wish I had it in me to be religious. At least then I could slough my bullshit onto the shoulders of some higher power. Jesus, if you’re listening, for the love of God take the motherfucking (I avoided ‘Goddamn’, so that’s something) wheel so I don’t have to be responsible for myself. I probably should have learned to parent myself before I had kids. Too late for that. Maybe I can find fulfillment externally. Maybe I can achieve and acquire enough to bury the voice in my head that’s screaming.
I’m not trying to be melodramatic, but of course I fucking am.