My favorite teacher from a few years ago was diagnosed with cancer. I couldn't believe it at the time. He was the best teacher I ever had and was universally loved by all at the small school I went to. He's one of the few intellectually inclined people I've met in my life. He thankfully survived his cancer battle but retired afterwards. I compare my life to his or the life of a young child diagnosed with cancer, and I wonder why it wasn't me. I'm worthless, I have nothing to offer, a hypocrite, and a bum. I hold the universe in contempt for all it has imposed on me. I have horrible luck, and I'm a certified loser in just about every way. Unfortunately, I just can't bring myself to commit suicide; I've considered death by cop and going postal, but that's difficult too. I can't get into drugs or drinking due to my living situation and being broke. If I were told I had a life-threatening disease tomorrow, I'd probably just accept it and refuse treatment. You can't know what you'd do in the moment, however. I'm a philosophical pessimist, and I have been my whole life basically. I've been consistently let down by life, and I hate just about everything about this excuse for an existence. I feel as if I'd be validated for once, that everything I thought was correct for once. I try and explain the pain I live in to my mother or grandparents, but they're normies, so they can't understand no matter what I try and tell them. I might as well not have any more living relatives when my relationships with them are like that. Completely different worlds. I have no friends anymore and no girlfriend of course. Been very isolated for the last year and a half now. Life ain't shit
