I have no hope for the future

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Hope floats.

Yes, that's what I'm doing.
Waiting for the end.
Amusing myself with nonsense.
Toying with imperfection.
Being purposeless.
But trying to leave a wake.

Here.
I won't even make a new thread.
I'll recycle.
Recycle these feelings.
They keep coming back.
Who needs them?

The dog returns to its vomit.

That's what this is.
Vomit.

The old saying: the past does not exist anymore.
The future also does not exist.
All there is is the present moment.
There was a post about loving the present moment on zen habits recently that developed that idea.

But this is happening now.

Obsessive thoughts are driving me ba na nas.
Ba na na na na na na nas

*checks for cerebrospinal fluid*

No offense Raleigh, but your old opening post that you're recycling here, well, it sounds an awful lot like me and my attitude-- and you're you, you don't want to be me.

I don't understand.

Maybe recycling isn't always a good idea.

Here's some understanding: what you're describing isn't a phase, it's my life dude. I'm not a big fan myself, but it is what it is. You, on the other hand, have a choice: this isn't your life, it's merely a phase in it. Now the question becomes how do you respond to it. There's gotta be something to care about and as sh***y as it feels you need to go find it. As much as I would like for most pompous meat bags to go the way of the dodo, you're not one of them-- you have soul, which is something most actually don't, and thus it matters that you're here. Most meat bags are clones of clones, they're interchangeable and replaceable, but people with soul are unique and they do actually have more value than the replaceable parts around them.

the things I care about make me ill.
Because I can't just care a little.
It's better not to care at all.

I wish I did art as well as you.

My art reflects my mental state.
Rickety and in danger of collapse.