Every day.

The boy arose from a state of unconsciousness, greeted with the unwelcome sunlight that poured from between the curtains.

Why did the world have to become light, thinking to himself as he lay in bed, why did the world become bright. It was silently screaming at him to get out and be a part of the world.

With the little energy he had, he rolled over onto the other side of the bed facing the wall with his eyes closed, ignoring the clock on his bedside table.
Several minutes passed and still the boy ceased to move, hiding in the dark underneath a pillow consumed by the soft, warm flannelet blankets.

As the boy lay, conscious, his thoughts invaded his head.
Why was it necessary to leave this lovely place. He didn't have to deal with those people. He didn't have to deal with those places. He didn't have to deal with those situations. He didn't have to deal with the cold winds, and the bright lights.
But he couldn't just stay in bed.

If he stayed in bed. He would become nothing.

And nothing was not what the boy wanted to be.

Out of frustration, the boy pushed the pillow from his face and opened his eyes, only to be bitten again from the harsh, warm sunlight raping his sanctuary.

In his eyes he saw the world forced him every day to follow the same routine, which he hated.
He hated the repetitive 9-5 days, he hated study, he hated work.
He knew at some point he would have to leave his bed, then out of boredom he would go off to explore the world, avoiding the places he didn't like as that was where the people he didn't like dwelt.
These people made him angry. Not because the were bad people, but because it annoyed him how they followed routines every day, and were happy.
These people could work all day without hating their jobs.
These people could party on appropriate nights.
These people could control how they spent their money.
These people could ignore distraction, study and get good grades.

As the boy lay in bed, still, he hated himself.
He hated the fact the people around him are winners, and he was a failure.
He was happy in bed.
He was happy. With no money. With a pile of failed work.
In bed, this did not matter. It was almost a purgatory. For a few hours he wouldn't be disturbed.
And for a few hours, he thought it would be easier to die.

It was his life, and he hated it.

He hated the fact he disappointed his parents. He was a promising child, but things changed once he realized life wasn't really that fun after all.

He hated the face that the girl he loved, probably didn't care.

He hated the fact it was so hard for him to do simple shit the people around him did every day.

Hate. Depression. Sadness.

But the boy appeared apathetic among the people he knew, and anxious around the people he didn't.

The boy stuck his stupid arm out of the bed, reached behind the bedpost and picked up a flimsy cardboard box with his stupid hands, took out a handful of pills and swallowed them with a glass of hangover water. He waited in his bed for the overdose of anti anxiety and mood stabilizers to take effect, thinking how he could cope the day without being subject to the fucking tedium of routine that filled his world.

And then the pills took effect...
And he calmed down, and got out of bed.
Knowing unless he could get fucked up enough tonight, or die, he wouldn't have to deal with this drama tomorrow morning.

Fuck this is stupid

Life, life in general is stupid.

A nihilist is a person who chooses not to believe in the existence of morals, in a world without proof to these and that life is pointless.

If that is the case, i am unhappy on a constant basis, life is stupid.
Why haven't i taken the effort to do something about this.
Either make life better for myself, live in constant misery, or kill myself.

I dont care about any of these enough to do something for myself, its like i am content being sad.
But im not content when im sad, thats a contradiction. This doesn't make any sense.

If i kill myself, i could loose the potential to have a good life.
But if im happy when im sad, why wont i be sad when im happy?

Sadness is a stupid thing, it finds me all the time in any situation, out of the 'blue' on a constant basis.

Prescription medication doesn't work.

Illegal drugs are expensive.

Alcohol has its ups and downs.

Money is hard to earn

These are the four things that change my mood.

The only long term fix is a job, im in no mood to go job hunting, i lack the stamina and because of my mood i dont feel confident going in for a job as depression takes its toll on charisma.

My self as-teem has gone down the toilet.

Pretty much im fucked.