Fuck everything today

I will drink today and I look forward to it because everything sucks and I have no reasons to maintain high standards for myself anymore. The ship is sinking, what are my options? This is the best one to get through today. I’ll figure out what’s next at some point in the future, or not, which comes down to the same thing.

I just want a beer, nothing special, maybe vodka. I want to complain like a motherfucker, but complaining without alcohol is a useless exercise. As is complaining without anyone to comfort you and offer you an idea that there’s a better, more correct point of view through which the same picture looks nicer.

Things are starting to suck bad. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s all the normal little annoyances in life that functional adults handle one after the other, but I can’t, I get fed up after like 2-3 in a row and since they’re still lining up, I’m shutting off.

And that’s just the practical layer over all the personal doubts. Is my life completely fucked up? Shouldn’t I be something else and get some tangible evidence that confirms all that potential I should have had? But instead, I suck and everything sucks. But I don’t even have an image to live up to, I am still as directionless as always and when it comes to that I can just project my mom’s or someone else’s values and standards and that checklist tells me I suck. That I’m so disappointing. I am saying that, but I can read every mind.

And that’s just a personal bullshit layer over the existential melodrama. I maybe feel like I want to die all the time but I can’t come to terms with the fact that we all die, I’m still not over it, and I’ll never be over it, life is a horror movie. Something really bad can happen to me and nothing is going to protect me. Nothing is going to preserve me.

I am obsessively thinking about every horrible case I heard of, like someone losing their arms and legs or becoming horribly disfigured, and I’m so terrified of the fact that so many bad things can happen to us. I’m totally paralyzed by this fear. This might be irrelevant to the main story but since it’s stuck in my head I can’t escape inward at the moment. I’m completely blocked from being able to produce any output, whatever’s inside is just screaming in fear lol fuck if drugs would help that.

I have too many pracitical annoyances I’m in no mood to deal with. Right now all this is too much for me and the idea of drinking again after a long time seems like the only comfort I can think of. I guess I’m really not feeling that creative right now.

Tl; dr - fuck life, everything in front of me is horror, drinking is the only logical thing I can do