Right before sleep ideas rush in. Thoughts jumble and clank and vie for attention. Tonight my mind races around chasing two thoughts when will I die and what fucking purpose does my life actually have. It’s a double negative I’m afraid. I’ll never die and my life purpose is none. I am trapped in this not quite hellish existence.
It feel like the characters of Our Town. Buried, talking to themselves for eternity. Even when I die, I’ll still be with myself. This is distressing.
I give in as I have no more fight. There is nothing here for me. My children no longer need me. I’ve no one who will miss me other than in passing thought. Intrinsically my life holds little to no value except that of being a burden to an already over-crowded planet.
There is no more thinking and planning for that maybe one day event.