I know I won’t do it. Not tonight, maybe never. But it would be beautiful for it to be tonight. Five days after the birth of the greatest man to have ever lived. The moon is shining in the sky, and I’m listening to Wagner’s Glück: I. Andate. I’ve been fucking hating my life even more than usual. There is very little motivation for me to keep going. I don’t know how you guys can live long enough to legally buy alcohol. Then again, I have no clue how I’ve lived long enough to vote. I want to be happy, and not momentary, fleeting happiness, either. I want to be genuinely happy. Not sure if I’ve ever felt genuinely happy for the last five or six years.
