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September 7 6:30pm

I smoke way too much, but today was horrible. Smoking is the least of my worries. My nerves are beyond repair. My depression is killing me. Everything I looked at or think is tainted with depression, weariness and negativism, even the coffee cup that contains my French Vanilla flavored coffee. The coffee doesn't taste good. Life doesn't taste good. I'm at the coffee shop now, just thinking and writing and drinking this coffee. Last night I drank 14 St. Pauli Girl's and got wasted and didn't do any homework at all. Damn, that beer is so good. It's the only beer I can drink with food, and that's a statement. I don't even know why I'm going to this university, I mean, I don't even have a major, well, not really. I thought computer science was it, but recently I don't know. Computer class is getting boring, I'm tired of it. I'm tired of school and everything. My heart is in literature, philosophy, and writing. I feel hopeless. The atmosphere of this Tuesday is terrible. I make that atmosphere, however. The earth and nature are indifferent. You exist, you die. I'm decaying before my very own eyes. Today I am dying, tomorrow I will die, and this minute I am dying. I am also living, that's enough. I can't handle that. It's so boring, another late Tuesday afternoon, then Wednesday, Thursday, etc. How can I explain these feelings? I look outside. The streets, the cars, the people walking places are so dull, everything is so sad too me. No life in anything; everything is so old and dead. It's all a repetitious blob of nothingness. On top of that I have no ...

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