the pessimist

 

I just felt like roasting myself tonight

I’ve gone inside myself to try and find out what is in there.  Everyone likes to think that there is a deeper meaning in life.  Rather life being a tragic farce in which you are never truly happy.  Only the illusion of happiness sprinkled in occasionally with boredom and disappointment.  Pessimism seems to be a handy remedy when dealing with existential crises.  What’s the meaning of life?  Who really cares?  The times we are most emotionally stable are in times of indifference.  Learning to let go of the things we cannot control is probably the greatest trait for one to possess.  The main motivation for my writing is based entirely on masochism and trying to not be one of the fucking idiots that I deal with on a daily basis.  I try to think that I’m deep and intelligent but in reality I’m just an insecure misogynist with commitment issues.  I’ve heard that hatred of others is just a projection of hatred of ones self and I believe it.  But once again we come to the “accept the things we cannot change” concept.  I’ve made mistakes that I have learned from and some that I haven’t.  At the very least I try to be aware of myself and remain humble at all times.