The New Daily (W)Rite
Wk o4
Tuesday, September 24, 2o13
Took a few days off from writing. I don't know why. I suppose I didn't have anything worth typing out about. Not that I ever do. It may well be that this constant feeling of loneliness is created by a great desire to just not do anything. I'm lazy. I don't want to go out and engage other people. Hell, I don't want to shower or wash close or do any of the stuff that one is suppose to do in order to have "friends." I wish it was more complicated than that. I wish there was some great despair or great fear that keeps me tethered to my small apartment with only the TV and computer to keep me company. A dark secret, perhaps. I'm a criminal on the run. Hiding out like Walt in the second to last episode of Breaking Bad. Or maybe Norman Bates! Yes, sitting patiently, waiting for my next victim to innocently knock upon my door, unaware of the monster on the other side. No, nothing fancy or fantastic as that. Just a lazy guy that no longer gives much of a farmer's truck about himself . . . or other people. I guess I've just given up on myself the way I imagine everyone else has given up on me. I know, "Boo-Hoo." Don't worry. I'll be better tomorrow. I have to have at least ONE day a week to feel sorry for myself. 
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