I don't have time for an introduction.

Pursuing depth is harmful. Your focus starts at the surface, that is who you are and this is where you're most comfortable. Your pursuit begins when others perceive you at a different depth, and you allow yourself to desire an understanding of that level of yourself. I don't know what I am talking about honestly. All I know is that now I am sick of trying to self analyze. I am sick of the focus of my vision constantly zooming in and out over and over, like a malfunctioning automatic focus feature. What the fuck. I am supposed to know myself. I've lived with myself. The rate at which my focus fades is absurd. 

Once the voice is gone, the pain in my neck becomes something that I'm not just making up. This realization is somewhat comforting, but the feeling is fleeting. I'm back to my surroundings, and my life is definitively empty. I don't know what to do or where to go from here. No one to reach out to, no one I would like to reach out to. Suddenly I remember that I'm hungry. My hunger wasn't something I made up either. Good. I remember the food from my childhood. I remember family. Then it's silent once again. What do I do. I have nothing to do. The lack of meaning in life, I realized, is like the mold growth on the side of my shower booth that I've been ignoring for as long as I have first noticed it. I wish there was something better to do than to shower. I don't know what that means, and I honestly don't even care anymore.