Websites are manifested in times like this.

The manic-depressive semi-boredom of nothingness. Nil. Kapoot. The only solace use to be coming up with a new website and filling it with even more nothingness. Scribblings. Scratches by a stick in a dune in some far off desert with the wind blowing hard, hard, hard. But now I have the slugs. So stagnant and irreplace-able, it stands here like a monolith of times gone past. Great memories compounded into dust into dust into dust.

When one is at work - all they can think about to get through the hour/day/week is that you want to get home. Get away from work. Stop getting PAID FOR YOUR TIME. And then finally the weekend comes. Finally your days off come. Finally it stops, and its quiet. and you're left alone, and all you can think of is : man, I want to go back to work - because this is all boring.

This is why I cannot live in an apartment/house by myself. the dulling quiet. The cars outside slowly making themselves past on the wet road. Suicide seems like a grand-ol time right about now, just sit down relax and see who can off themselves quicker. Not necissarily because one doesnt want to live but one just wants something to do to make living so un-eventfull.

and even filling one's life with people and fun and places, excitement - opportunities of enjoyment, love, sexual pleasures, misdirections, driving places, entertainment of some sorts, so on and so on and so on and so on. I could go out and do things with people and go places and see things and do things but they seem so meaningless, pointless - worthless.

it is all the same, in the end.
one big cyclical round-the-rosie, pockets full.