nothing to say

How is it that at 27 my greatest thrill is sitting on my couch and seeing how fast I can get drunk so that I can pass out and not be bored to death? I guess life isn't boring per say, I just can't seem to bear it. I hate the finality of it. I hate time. It goes so slow until you need it to, then it's too fast. I find no joy in joyful things. I find no love in the lovely. Somehow this life isn't what I signed on for. This life is something that I would like replaced or refunded.
And don't go thinking to yourself, "god! this chick is something else! she should get over it, stop whining." Easy for you to say. You are a normal person, I guess; if you think that way you must be. Easy for you to say when you find joy in socialization, in standing for something, in your morals and ethics. To me, those things are useless, futile. They are you know. What the fuck difference does it make that there is genocide in Africa, what the fuck will it change if you join the peace corps to help. You can't stop genocide. You can't stop the hate that causes it.
The fact that you are happy, as I sit on my couch watching mindless 80's specials on VH1 and stalking people on myspace says a lot about you, about me. There is a whole existence happening all around me, but I am the vacuum, the absence of existence. My spirit was crushed a long time ago and I am merely a shell.