I know I have a drink problem of some kind. I just don't know what. It certainly does not fit the category of "alcoholic" as I know it. I wish I had the strength of mind to not let my anxieties get the better of me. I wish I could exercise everyday instead. I sleep so poorly that exercise even hurts my immune system. I have the neighbours from hell and nobody seems to care especially the estate agent who advises me to approach the authorities even though I'm renting the place from them.
I have the familiar dull ache in my right side. I'm guessing that's my liver telling me to give it a break. I am permanently scared. I know that now. I expect bad things to happen everyday and usually they do.
Why do we do these things to ourselves? Why do people like us invest so much in trying to destroy everything including ourselves? Why do we settle for the mediocre version of life? Why do we care? Why do I write this? Why am I scared? Am I really trying to just end myself? Optimism seems such a luxury to me; actually a luxury of the wealthy who this world is tailored for. I think I would be in a better frame of mind if there was some kind of justice in this world.
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