Disconnected Thoughts

I've still got things stuck on my mind that I won't write about, and I'm rather tired, and generally not in the mood to actually work toward making this a decent post. So I won't bother. Here's a random collection of some thoughts I've had today, and with any luck there will be at least some sort of logical flow to it...but if not, then oh well.

I love driving. I love feeling the motion and watching seemingly infinite tracts of road disappear behind me. I love how I don't have to think when I'm at the wheel. All I do is feel. I feel the car moving forward, rushing faster and faster through time. I'm getting somewhere, doing something...moving somewhere, going from point A to B, but I'm not exerting myself. It gives me exactly the chance I need to make sense of my life.

Lately, everything has just been going to pieces. Not in the dramatic, crashing sense, either. It's all just been slowly disintegrating. Everything is the same. Nothing is new or exciting. I keep waiting for something to happen, hoping that something might change or that I might get a new opportunity or hobby. But nothing is happening. So I'm just drifting on through time, and as before, I have no reason to live. I'm just moving through this out of habit, because it's easier than actually making a change.

Ironically enough, I've also been thinking about some past posts lately, and piecing them together. I think that maybe I live for pain. It's the only thing that really keeps me going anymore, it's the only thing I feel. It reminds me of the song Pain by Three Days Grace, "'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all." That's pretty much the case for me. And the thing that I would get rid of because it caused so much pain? Love. Exactly. So really, love is keeping me going, right? I'm not sure. I mean, love leads directly to pain which is the only thing I really feel anymore, and thus is the only reason I still bother trying to make anything of my life.

I'm not sure how much sense any of that really makes, though. It's probably better that I don't probe too far into it though. Depression is quite enough without picking it completely to pieces and figuring out how it works. That's actually pretty useless, too, since it doesn't change the way anything is. Here's where existentialism is quite convenient though--it doesn't matter in the end anyway, we're all ging to die, so we can just do whatever we want until then.

Interestingly enough, someone I know said that given 24 hours to live, they would kill themselves then and there. Well that's rather a change from most people's answers of being with loved ones and doing adventurous things, casting aside inhibitions, and whatnot. But where does that line lie? What if it were 48 hours instead of 24? What if it was a week? A month? A year? How does that differ from a lifetime? We all know we're going to die anyway. So where does additional time make it worthless to live any longer? I might actually have to address this question to them sometime...

Alas, I think that's enough useless rambling on my part for the present. Maybe there was something interesting or worthwhile in that, or maybe not. Either way, it's what I've been thinking in the past hour or so, or maybe less. So that's a pretty decent mind-dump for that period of time, I think. And now I'm off to continue my life, doing something or other than I won't even remember a day from now...