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I have had a hard time writing anything for a while. Maybe the creative tank is finally empty. I don’t even know my reason for writing anymore. I’ve considered quitting because blogging has felt like work, and lost it’s fun.

I don’t want to want things. To have to rely on anyone.

I’ve been late two posts in a row, and I feel ashamed of myself for not following through on it. I failed myself and the readers.

In short, Im not confident. I don’t know what I want in life. I don’t want a career. And as a man at 34, if you don’t have a career or steady income… Forget dating. I don’t even know what a good date feels like. Never had a girlfriend or a third date. In addition to that, I’m a 34 year old virgin. I’m still one because I don’t want to lose it to a prostitute, or a one night stand. I want it to happen in a committed relationship. I don’t talk about this because I’m completely ashamed of this.

I feel trapped. I’m tired of struggling for so long with my mental health problems while life passes by… As I struggle to survive. I’m tired of being a burden. I’m tired of being immature. Not being able to trust people doesn’t help.

Life feels like an endless slog, then we die.

I’m so tired of working on myself.

I like the idea, the fantasy of things than the reality. Life feels like far too much work, and I don’t know what it feels like to be successful. I don’t need much. In our capitalist world, nobody is ever enough.

It feels like it’s too late for me.

What’s the point?