You had a bad day;

I just can't see the point anymore. It's extremely unrealistic to think that somehow things will work out. They won't. Nothing ever gets better with time, we're all just fucked until it's over. All the cliches make sense when things are working out in your favor. But when you're down, nothing can consolidate you. Not the happy-go-lucky chirping voices of those who are "just happy to be alive," not the hackneyed expressions that everyone recites at you, hoping you'll believe it sooner or later. Nothing. And yes, searching for happiness in a time like this is utterly hopeless. I might sound a little depressed, and I probably am. It's just not worth it anymore. There are days when everything seems good, and there's just that little nagging reminder in the back of my mind that says, "This will only last for a little while; you're gonna crash & burn just like you have before." And during that time I disregard it, thinking it could never be as bad as it was before. But it is. Always. And over time there are so many other factors that contribute to the disaster. What she said, what he thinks, what they heard, what he did. I'm sick of it. It means absolutely nothing, and I keep forgetting that.
Counting the days until this one's over.