Attention Whoring, Depressed

I Should be Famous

I’ve been waking up early lately. I think the morning job and the fact that I don’t have blinds of any sort which causes light and cold to enter my room at 6:30 is part of that. That would be the logical answer, but as fun as logic is, it is less fun to blame things on.

It’s because I wake up in guilt ridden panics of self-doubt and then I can’t get back to sleep because I feel to guilty and self-doubty. Not because of anything in particular but rather just a constant worry that I am doing nothing in life. I am accomplishing so little. I don’t give homeless people money because I don’t have money. I don’t save things except for piles of trash that I mistakenly compile in the corners of rooms I spend too much time in. My only output to society is art which is so intangible and useless and helps no one except a bunch of other people who do nothing but produce intangible and useless contributions.

If I were famous all this would be different. My audience would be so far reaching that the things I said would be important. When I talked about my inability to get out of bed for fear of having to put on clothes and accomplish something I would guilt some young teen suffering from depression into getting out of bed and making love to another young teen suffering from depression instead of just causing 10 of my friends to be a little more disgusted with the prospect of making love to me.

Let’s all stop judging what I do until I get famous – it’s really only interesting then.

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