Typical

I sit in my aged chair contemplating the few years I have left on this miserable planet. 

Where is the elusive love I used to search for? 

Where is the meaning? 

Why is it that nothing really matters anymore?

I am over it all.

We work a horrible job to pay for things we don't really need. We live in complacency ignoring the inevitable, never-resting second hands going by at high speed. A cosmic joke with us as the punch line. Finite flies sucking on the shit of life just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Gods and philosophy fails us at every turn during these humid August days. 

Goodnight. 

See you all or not. 

Typical.