Bah.

Why the hell is life one long, drawn out joke? And not a good one at that. It is the ultimate irony that we exist on this pathetic orb with the ability of grasping some grand truth, the self-awareness to put it to the test and the sheer willpower to make it work when there is, in fact, no real point to any of it all.

Still we linger for sixty or seventy or eighty years, passing from one humiliation to another, a monotonous journey only sporadically broken up by occasional agony of both the physical and mental varieties. Fun!

I should stop making fun of Goths and try to embrace the lifestyle. At least they get off on this futility bullshit.