Still Lacking Desires

As I was posting the last entry, I realized that it didn’t have anything to do with the title, what I originally intended to write about. I might say that my current goal in life is developing flash games, because that’s what I’ve been kinda doing; I’m capable of doing it; And I need a means to make money. I apparently get really sick of being employed so it seems making flash games (or games for any other platform) seems like the right move to make for me. That all sounds okay but I don’t feel like doing shit. I’m simply lacking the motivation to do anything. What’s the point? So I can extend this shitty life? What’s there to enjoy in life? I seem to no longer enjoy movies, tv, games, and even sex (with hookers). I don’t like interacting with annoying people and everyone seems annoying to me. I could go on forever with things that I don’t like because I’m being a cunty little bitch. The problem is, I can’t find anything I do like, which makes it hard to find a reason to do anything.

I feel like I need to get my ass kicked by the world, face death, and let my survival instincts kick in. Maybe then, I’ll stop being such a pussy and complaining about how difficult it is to live my 100% stress-free life. That’s not true. It’s not 100% stress-free. But compared to most people, it might as well be.

It’s hard for people to talk to me about it because talking doesn’t get me anywhere. I try not to talk about it as freely as I used to because it’s not fun for others to hear about my lack of appreciation of life, especially when there are people struggling to live and I’m just wasting away my healthy body. This is particularly true with my cancerous uncle whom’s house I’m currently living in. He gave me a little speech today about how I should finish post-secondary education, get a degree in something, and face reality. His main point is that life isn’t fair and I should take every advantage I can get. I didn’t fight him at all, because I didn’t want to stress him to his death, but I could not agree with a single thing he said.

First, before the life lecture, he advised I wear more clothes because my aunt got sick and there are germs around the house. I’m cruising around in shorts and t-shirt during freezing winter by the way. I understand his concern, I really do, but I don’t get sick. I may catch a flu or whatever’s around, but I don’t get sick. I feel just as fine as my normal self with the exception of having a bit of a stuffy or runny nose. In either case, I just blow the shit out of it and I’ll be fine for at least 30 minutes. Maybe it’s a testament to my cardiovascular muscles that blowing my nose all day doesn’t wear me out. Even if I get a little sick, it’s not like I have any responsibilities anyway so I can just sleep it off. Maybe people are such pussies to me that I can’t stand them. I’ve gotten ill to the point where my body can hardly function anymore, but I can still handle it. I don’t want to disrespect a dying man, but my body’s fine. It’s probably as good as it is because I’ve forced it to endure much worse and it has become resilient as a result.

After that, he gave me a little lecture about the importance of a degree. As an older person who doesn’t delve in technology, my uncle doesn’t know shit about what I do. I fully understand that there’s a possibility, a pretty big possibility, that things don’t work out with my independent game development. I understand that, but it doesn’t matter because I don’t want to do anything else. Heck, I don’t even want to do what I’m doing now but it’s already a lot of effort on my part to at least attempt to do something rather just rot away. Yes, I’m wasting time, yes I know, but I’m wasting time on a life that was supposed to be dead anyway. There were a few nights I could’ve died and I’ve grown to accept it. Surviving those brief self-inflicted dangers didn’t give me a new perspective on life. If anything, it made (my) life seem more meaningless. Time is only precious when there’s stuff to do. With nothing to do, time is just a made-up concept that doesn’t affect real life, like string theory.

Am I just making excuses so I can relax at home and not go to work? I don’t think so. All I know is, people don’t trust my opinion at all. They have their mind set on what life is supposed to be and they can’t accept my nihilistic view. I’m not blaming anyone for my miseries, but every single person who talks to me has the power to add meaning to my life and make me want to live more, but they don’t. They’ve got their own lives and they’re too busy to deal with me. I’m not saying that people need to value me more, but if it’s gonna be the way it is, at least let me feel shitty instead of criticizing me about it. At the end of the day, their criticism doesn’t really matter because they only criticize me during our brief interaction, and then they go back to their lives as if I don’t exist, which is exactly the problem to begin with.

Being Nice

I consider myself a pretty nice person. I would pretty much do anything for anyone if asked but I don’t go around offering my help. I need to be asked. But then I was playing Sleeping Dogs, doing side missions helping out in game strangers, and I realized that I actually don’t enjoy helping people. Some people claim to feel great when they do good but I just feel empty and hollow afterwards. I get a “thanks” and that’s it? Does this make me a bad person? I think so.