There are so many different things I could write about.

I could write a post about morality. I could write a post about logic. I could write a post detailing my misadventures with women lately. I could write a post about how work has been going. I could write a post about my dreams and aspirations, about my triumphs and successess. I could write a post about my failures and misgivings, my apathy and disillusionment. I could write a post about gender roles and their destructiveness. I could write a post about double standards when it comes to gender. I could write a post about why I can’t have sex or get married. I could write a dozen or more different posts.

But.
I fucking hate people. Period.

Perspective

Are people never there when I need them, or do I only want people around when they’re unavailable (but otherwise could care less)?

At times I grow tired of being lonely at night, as I always am. Perhaps, I am beginning to theorize, no one is around at night because I don’t put in the proper investments during other times.
Who knows.
Who cares.