Posted on

“On the best of days, I couldn’t see around the hatred of my life. I couldn’t see where the good stuff started to happen. I couldn’t see a set of circumstances where I would find my life even marginally acceptable, let alone feel good about my life and direction. I could do a shit tonne of work to get ready for a life that never comes. I would feel ripped off in that moment. I could’ve used that time to prepare myself for the end. I could’ve been drinking and smoking and not giving a shit about anything until I died.”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.