lament

I used to think I had something to offer.  Now, I just hang on by a thread.  

Why am I still alive if I have nothing to offer?

The thread will eventually break.  When it does, I better have something else to hold on to or. . .

Lament: I have always been alone and alone I will remain.

My lament remains true.  A self-fulfilling prophecy.  I can’t even really maintain a friendship.  I even let all conversations die a horrible death.

Take the happy pill and be satisfied with where are you in life.  Or don’t and wallow in depression.  What wonderful choices!

Yeah, so it’s been over a month.  If I actually posted on here regularly maybe I wouldn’t have so many problems.  Why don’t I?  There’s never really a good reason.