The longer you go

I think the biggest problem I've found with getting older is that it's harder to find excuses to keep going.

I mean there's pure cussedness.  That keeps me moving most days.

But it seems that the longer I live, the harder it gets to justify my existence.

I'm not talking about the severe depression of my 20's and early 30's where the only thing that kept me from eating a shotgun out in the woods was the fact that I didn't have anyone I trusted to feed the cat if I did.

It's more of a general malaise.

Recognition that in all likelihood I have nothing really to contribute, and nothing to look forward to.

If I'm 'lucky' maybe another 30 years of taking people's shit, making other people richer, getting screwed over, and worrying about what new horror lies just around the corner.

Three, maybe four more decades of increasing loneliness as the handful of people I care about die off or drift even further away.

I'm tired.

I'm not well suited to this modern society.

I don't see things improving.

And I can't help but wonder if the responsible and intelligent option is just cashing in and making room for someone better suited to survival.

As of today, I figure there are two, maybe three people (family included) who would be upset if I went down to the harbor and blew my brains out.  Possibly three more who would notice, try to tell nice lies about me, and forget about it by the end of the year. 

Sometimes I wonder if I just keep going out of habit.

But on the up side, if the situation in the South China sea, and the situation in Syria continue to deteriorate at the current rate, I won't have to worry about it much longer.

Ah well, time to quit being a pussy.

Back to work.