Nothing is enough for me anymore. Nothing will quell this hunger inside of me. This yearning for something more. Something that doesn’t scream at me with it’s own sense of waste. It’s own lack of meaning. The pointlessness of my existence has taken hold of me, and i fear it will never let me go. It’s grip is tightening. I thought I had destroyed it, but i realize now all i did was attempt to drown it out. I tried to overpower it with substance or sex or the idea of love. But it can never be destroyed. It will always be there, waiting until i am at my most vulnerable. And no one can keep up that kind of facade, a fake invulnerability. Not for long enough to never notice it again, anyway. In reality, that will only make it scream louder. It will only make our worst fears even more obvious. That is, that we are all worthless. That this all-important life, this thing that is the whole extent of our being; Our sole reason for anything. The only sense of purpose or direction we can aquire on this god-forsaken planet. That it is actually futile in every possible way. That life, to it’s very core, does not care in the slightest for any particular individual. Not you, and not me. Not ever.