I have no control over my own life. I will never create anything of value, I can't muster up the desire to improve my situation because it just seems too pointless. I'm too cowardly to die at my own hands, but the feeling sometimes is intolerable, some days I wake up disappointed that I'm conscious once again.

I view the world through vision distorted by film grain, or snow, I don't know. Visual acuity in one of my eyes is beginning to degrade, slightly, but noticeably.

I hear the world through ears that never stop ringing, just a constant high pitch whirr, every night before bed and every morning when I wake. I am slowly but surely accumulating more physical ailments, eventually it will be too much for my body to bear, and at that point I'll die, even though I whine, I find that thought intolerable.

After finishing this spiel I feel guilty, I haven't thought of others. If I could be better, if I could contribute or create something, or participate in anything, I could improve other's lives, but I don't. I only cause suffering to those around me, I take but I never give.