Well, I'm still not dead yet.
I am at an impasse.
I find myself afraid that I will grow old and die, and have no interesting stories to tell. This is a worry that reaches down into the very core of my being. I am not ok with this.
And yet… I don't want to change what I'm doing. I know I am wasting my life and pissing away my youth, being a reclusive shut in who does nothing more then play video games, and this bothers me somewhat. But it doesn't bother me enough to want to fix it, or fix it for very long.
I don't have the constitution or conviction to rip up all of my roots and start fresh somewhere, just so that I can have more experience to draw on. And even if I did, what would I do with that experience? Experience that would let me do what? To sit at a bar somewhere, trading stories with total strangers? After all, none of the people I’d want to hang out with would ever expect me go to a bar more then once in a blue moon. After all, I don't drink. I don't go out. I'm not social unless I'm being paid to be, or I've known a person for years, and even then there are few people I genuinely enjoy the company of, and think they'd be willing to put up with me.
Hello Existential Crisis, how are you? I hope you're doing well. I'd say take off your coat 'n stay a while, but we know you don't like hanging around my place for too long. Too boring for your tastes, isn't it? Anyways, I've got some soda 'n snacks in the kitchen, but you can help yourself. After all, you know where I keep anything good at.
Oh, do me a favor when you're done raiding the fridge? Make sure to lock the door on your way out. I'm gonna go play some video games.