[Funkduder]

Journal Open:

Perhaps this is a sort of reflection on the small and meaningless accumulation of what I have accomplished so far...
17 and a half years, almost, and I still don't have a drivers license...[bleep]in neck. If only I could turn to look more naturally. But then again, maybe that makes me a fake, having to try to look natural. I don't care anymore. The inquiries are over. Defeat is that much more bitter when the sweetness of victory has freshly run dry. I was so happy, it was almost like drugs two weeks ago. Why did it suddenly come to this?...Ironic...ironic that I enter these halls to calm those with these thoughts...And now here I am thinking them.
But you need not worry. I'm too smart to kill myself. It's just a passing thought.Things always get better, just look at history.

But my worries stem from lack off purpose, now. Do I fade into the background again? Do I disappear into that oblivion? It's not destruction, it's worse, which maybe why it seems so compelling to let it close.
But rationale tells me that ending on the low note is no way to good, and it always leaps up again as long as you don't act stupid.

So what's next? What's left of the empty toybox? Nothing?...maybe a place to let my head rest a little while...until i think of something funner to do...

Journal Close...