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my life is lacking vitality in a way that i don't feel like it ever has before. i feel trapped and stuck and i don't care about anything anymore, if i ever did. it's not just a fleeting feeling or situation, it's all consuming. the distractions are insufficient, i want out of this existence.
a bit dramatic there bud. chill out, it's nbd. you'll get over it and you won't do shit. it's pathetic and boring and pitiable to some extent, but you'll be fine.
if you're gonna whine about your sadness the least you can do is be a bit more creative with your expression of it. it's quaint and pedestrian and unbearable to slog through. even that's not right - 'slog' implies a density and weightiness that is severely lacking.
it would be a great relative success for my writing to evoke anything more than a spiritless sigh or listless eye roll at sentiments seen thousands of times before. but even that reaction implies an unwarranted level of emotional investment
these comments are less about the nominal public nature of the platform i'm on and more about how sickening i find my own creations