Blue

With a hint the Black.

He's 60. The last 11 levels, aside from a some help from Chad which was greatly appreciated in Silithis, I took that fucking godforsaken World of Warcraft character of mine to 60. And you know what? I don't even give one single shit. I don't care. It's so odd, I think. Everytime I've ever gone through the painstaking process of completing a goal in a game I set for myself there was always that feeling of satisfaction. A feeling of victory, and accomplishing something. Now... Now there's nothing. It's not the same anymore. They all run their instances, I try and get in to some pick up groups mostly because they're full or running something when I get home. Every PuG falls apart, or what I"m looking for doesn't drop. (Oh, oh, what's that phrase again?) And I still feel like shit for rolling on those Pauldrons that Belle needed as well. The pretty much only instance I ran with the group and I out rolled her on those damned Beaststalker Mantles. If I could give them to her I would in a heartbeat, because at this stage, as I've already stated, I really don't care anymore. I just want to see others that really helped me out through the goodness of their heart enjoy themselves. And she really does deserve it. Maybe when I cancel all this shit I'll just sell everything and send her all my Gold. She doesn't know how much I appreciated everything when I "came back".

I have so many issues stuck rolling in my head. So many things I need to sort out, need to express, and I just can't talk about them. Not to anyone I know for various reasons. Back to that whole "not wanting to hurt people" anymore. Not wanted to worry people, stress them, or make them think odd things while I try and work out my problems. Drugs 'n doctors, I'm sure some might say. Been there done that, as I would say. Not for me anymore. Thanks, but no thanks. I'd rather die than go through all that again.

I'm not well.

I keep logging in because I have nothing better to do with my time. Because I have no motivations, no life goals. And every single day whatever future is there in front of me is slowly fading away. I used to want children. I really did. Now they're the last thing I could ever want in this world. Just.... It's not fair to them. I don't have the right to make something exist, make something live. And I won't do it. Chances are too good, with me, that my offspring will be unhappy, depressed, sick and doomed to my own brand of lifelong curses no matter how rich I try and make their lives. No thank you. I've gone through enough in 23 years to know that I could never watch a child of mine go through half of the same shit. And it would take more than all the tea in China to make me decide otherwise. I've though about this for a long and hard time.

Work. Work is... Work. They keep asking me there "How do you like it? What do you think? Is this better than CWO?" Etc, etc... And you know what? I don't think a damned fucking thing about it. It's work, for Christ's sake. And what I finally had dawn on me the other day was, the older you get (if you're lucky) the jobs you get will have less "hard" work to do. And as you go through this process you'll get paid more. You make pennies to work your fingers to the bone, and then when you're getting paid "well enough" you barely feel like you accomplished anything in a day. At least, that's the way my work experiences have been going so far. The most money I've made, I've made at a job that was the most boring shit in my life. Now, in Distribution for Maple Leaf Foods, I'm working so hard, I'm losing weight, gaining more muscle definition, feeling more and more sore everyday and I make half of what I made before. Funny thing, this "life" they call it.

Whatever, though, right?

Fuck it all, as Mr. Carlin might suggest. I'll sit here and fucking fish the rest of my WoW days away while I think about all this tormenting shit. That dream I had last night sure as fuck didn't help matters.