800 words, not including the title

It’s Friday morning.  Those of you reading this first thing after it comes out will already know that, but for any future people* who might be reading, it is the morning of Friday, April 21, 2023, as I’m writing.  Since I don’t work this weekend, I guess it really is one of those “TGIF” days, at least in principle, for me.

I’m not really doing anything this weekend, apart from doing my laundry on Sunday.  I do it every Sunday, because I must.  Other than that, it would be quite nice if I could simply rest.  I would so love to get a good night’s sleep.  It feels as though the time since I had a good night’s rest is longer than the time I’ve been alive, which is, of course, a contradiction, but that just shows how fucking tired I am.  I can’t even convey how tired I am, not really.  Nothing really does it justice.

I’m so tired I feel almost out of breath just walking to the bus stop in the morning.  Of course, there’s always, in principle, the possibility that something more is physically wrong with me than “mere” insomnia**.  But I did walk back to the house from the train station yesterday afternoon, which is five miles, and I had no physical difficulties doing that (other than joint and limb aches and so on), so I don’t think there’s anything significant wrong with my heart and/or lungs.

That’s almost too bad, really.  If it turned out I did have something serious wrong with my heart and/or lungs, I don’t think I would try to get help for it.  What would be the point?  I can’t afford it, anyway.  And why would I be trying to prolong a life that has lost nearly every source of joy and is steadily losing the few such things that remain.

Well, I say “steadily”, but that’s probably not accurate.  I don’t really think that there’s a consistent, gradual process occurring.  There may be sudden drop-offs, and there may be plateaus, and there may be momentary, teasing, cruel bumps upward that serve only to get one’s hopes up in order to take sadistic glee in dashing them.  At least, that would be the case if there were any malicious mind behind the fact that I am losing any interest in anything.  But as far as I can tell, though, there really isn’t any such mind—though one could, I suppose, say that my own mind’s dysfunction is causing it, and that wouldn’t be without justification.

Anyway, the point is, it’s not really a smooth descent curve.  There are bumps and spikes and fractal things, like any graph of measures that have local variance overlying general trends, like stock prices or global temperatures or what have you.

I’m tired.  Have I mentioned that already?  I’m seriously so very tired.  I want to lie down and just stay that way.  I want to be able to sleep.

I think I’m repeating myself here, but honestly, I don’t really care.  I don’t have the energy to care.  So fuck off if you want to try to make me feel guilty or something.

I don’t really have much of anything else to talk about today.  I don’t have any pastimes anymore, I don’t have any nearby friends—I don’t even know if I have any long-distance friends, to be honest.  I don’t have anyone with whom to spend my spare time.  You might think that would give me plenty of time to rest, and I suppose it does give me plenty of time to rest.  Unfortunately, I cannot seem to carry out the process of resting.  I can be idle, but I cannot seem to rest, or at least, I haven’t been able to do so, not for a long time.

I’m so tired of my life.  It’s just not worth the effort to continue it.  It’s mostly pain and stress and loneliness (and yet, in counterpoint, an ironic revulsion toward socializing) and a general feeling of being lost and of having ruined every good thing of which I’ve ever been a part.  Above all, though, there’s just fatigue.  I am just so very tired.

In fifty words, I’ll have reached 800 words in the first draft of this post, and I don’t think I’m going to try for any more, nor will I find it difficult to stop before going beyond that number.  Twelve more words.  Please do have a good weekend.  Bye for now.


*Are there flying cars and jet packs yet?  Are you cyborgs or purely artificial beings?  Or are you just the same old naked house apes?

**Is that when a body of water cannot sleep, or when a person cannot sleep near, or on, a lake?  I don’t know.

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