Blog Entry #1
I'm not sure that I believe in reality.
On a base logical level, of course there's something. There must be something.
Otherwise, why would I interact with the world? Why would I take care to do anything?
But a part of me feels as though everything I do is a desperate attempt to fool myself into thinking that I belong.

See, my mistrust doesn't just extend to the world around me. It also enshrouds my very self.
There's this nagging thought. This idea that perhaps it is me who isn't real.

Like I said, it doesn't hold up to logic. At least not empirically.

I hate who I am, I hate thinking and I hate this neverending lonelyness. All that I can seem to think about is myself. Me me me.
I don't trust a single one of those thoughts. There's not a single time I've felt bad that I haven't gotten stuck in this maddening loop;

Am I only doing it for attention? Or do I cry because I actually feel bad? If so, do I feel bad enough to warrant crying?
What counts as bad enough? Do I fabricate these feelings in a vain bid for someone to help me? Am I worthy of that?
Even if I am faking it, does that fact prove that I am indeed in need of care, or am I simply a weakminded idiot?"

And so on and so on... it is exhausting. Being alive is exhausting.
I wish that I had someone who could help me get through it all, someone to ground me.
I fear that the distractions I've used all my life have started to run thin.