I is emo.

Here I sit, in an empty room, abandoned by pretty much all of the world. I have, perhaps, five people who I would consider to be my friends, none of which meet any of the more logical requirements for friends. I have no emotional support network, no one who I can trust, no one who I feel that I can say anything to, and have them provide helpful feedback. In fact, the best conversations I've had over the last few weeks have been with myself. I talk to myself, even when there are other people around, because it removes the effort needed to get people to pay attention to me. I do not yet have distinct personalities within my mind - what I talk to is simply me disagreeing, or providing useful feedback on what I have said. The only time I am actually happy is when I am hyper (I beleive that my body may have discovered how to produce some drug, possibly caffeine), and even then I cannot fully crush my sadness.

Logically speaking, I have no reason to be sad. But you know what? My mind has progressed beyond logic; I do not live in reality any more than I have to nowadays. And, if someone is reading this, fuck you. I don't want your help.

Of course, given psycology and all that, I suppose that this post is probably me reaching out for help. Fuck that. This is me pouring my depression into a computer, in hope that it will alleviate it, or at least give me something to laugh at later.