I feel like writing … not much content, however. I feel lonely. Odd how I am probably in the best shape of my life, have my little goals set with plenty extra, yet I look ahead and think, What does it even matter? Maybe I end up doing something well enough to earn a little money … I can buy some food and alcohol, pay for a date, look somewhat ambitious thus more appealing to women? More confident? I don’t know. Some people say finding the cause of a depression will help, though I find that potential causes change and I sink just the same. No one dumped me and I am not financially in crisis nor in need of relief from the people around me. I am lonely, true, but not in the mood to carry on a conversation. My friend’s dad had a stroke and I’ve wanted to go to his place and visit, but despite my concern I don’t feel I have enough energy to do it, and when he finds out I’m not doing much with myself it will end up a long conversation about that. Uhhh.
I am being somewhat repetitive with all these. Well, my pants aren’t all that far from complete, so I should be able to show those to the audience soon along with whatever else I come up with.