The Plaster On My Wall

M: one day
M: im gonna die of depression
M: or stress
M: or something
R: Doesn't everyone?
R: If someone could live a stress-free life, they'd never die.
R: Alas, fear of death causes stress.
M: Well
M: im not afraid of dying actually
R: You would be, if that was the only thing you'd have to worry about.

Yes, I stopped posting.
I'm not lazy, I'm out of material. I don't have the time to think with these constant deadlines tugging at my metaphorical sleeves. This year stresses me out with excessive work and unforgiving grades. I broke my sock drawer recently. Frustrated at my sock drawer for being so fragile, I threw it across the room. Later I realized that an action like this would only obliterate it further. And rupture the plaster of my wall.
Don't avoid me. This isn't who I am.
In a desperate attempt to find enlightenment, I've begun to think pessimistically. Its starting to stick, and worse, it isn't working. I try everything to avoid depression, for the sake of this blog.

An unhappy poster is a boring poster.