Life is devoid of meaning. Life is suffering. This is despair. How things have changed since last Summer. What is making this Summer so far bad? Is it that I have to deal with people this Summer? Is it the being alone last year that gave me confidence and if so, isn’t that confidence false?
Last Summer was extraordinary. I didn’t have to deal with people, I only had to think of them on a distant, abstract level. People as concepts; how they ought to be considered. I was untouchable. Now I’m in New Jersey with no one here I particularly like. I’m going to be in Providence with my brothers, and we’ve never been buddy-buddy close, so I don’t know how comfortable that will be.
And what am I now? I’m not feeling so hot. I’m just here. Not being anybody, doing nothing for nobody. Physically I’m shot. I feel weak and uncoordinated. Spiritually I’m dead, morally I’m dead. I’m just wasting my life. I hate people. I hate myself.
