Feelings of Utter Worthlessness
April 3, 2003


	You see where you are today?  How did you get there?  Do you think
you deserve more?
	You thought you could do anything, be anything you wanted when you
were younger, but that was all fantasy.  It's so much harder when you
actually have to do those things, isn't it?
	You could have done things with your life, but you only did what was
"good enough" to get by.  You never applied yourself with the vigour that you
apply to your frivolous pursuits.
	You tried to become a writer.  You tried to make your little
creations into something worthy of seeing professional publication.  You're
still trying.
	You tried to find a subject you could make a living with.  Lawyers
can make a lot of money, but only the successful ones.  With your work ethic,
what makes you think you'll even pass the bar exam?
	You want to stop writing this, so you can waste your time on
something counterproductive.  You won't stop writing this until you're done.
Where was that gusto five years ago?  Where was it the rest of your life?
	You want to show people what you do, but you're afraid.  The only
people who like what they see are people you already know; anyone else is
indifferent at best, downright hostile at worst.  You wonder if the
encouragement you get is just a facade over something else.
	You thought about killing yourself, but your fear of death and your
fear of pain overcame your fear of life.  Was it a psychological condition?
Are you crazy?  Or would the world really benefit from getting rid of you?
	You don't know if you can turn it all around and get a real job.  You
don't have any applicable skills, do you?  You don't have the strength to do
menial labour, and you can't drive, so deliveries are out of the question.
What can you do?  Write?  On a good day, maybe.
	You wonder why people seem to hate you at first sight.  It's because
they're narrow-minded, bigoted elitists, right?  No.  They may be
narrow-minded, bigoted elitists, but you think you're still superior to them
in every way.  You can't knock somebody down a peg if you put yourself above
them.
	You really don't want to keep writing this, do you?  Pouring your
heart out to an unintelligent computer must seem like the actions of a
madman.  What do you think will happen when people read this?  Pity?  Offers
of friendship?  Take a step back from your delusions and look at the world
again.  Do any of those people care about you?  Why should they care about
you?  What do you do for them?  That's how this world works.
	You are a sad individual.  Why are you still writing this?  What do
you expect to accomplish?  Why?  Why?