Once again, I feel like absolutely no one in this world gives a fuck about whether I am happy or miserable, whether I improve or disintegrate, or whether I live or die. Which I suppose I ought to be glad for, since I am on the miserable, disintegrating track, and it's heading slowly but surely for death.

Maybe I'll be glad to die if and when I ever get there. I doubt my useless fucking life is worth trying to live through anyway.