I want to care about something. I want to have a goal.
I feel like my life is meaningless. Life has only the meaning I give it, and I haven’t given it anything in months. I’m not working towards anything, and I can’t think of anything that I want to work towards.
I thought signing up for National Novel Writing Month would help, but it only gave me a temporary euphoria. Now that reality is setting in–I have no idea what to write about, while all my friends have started already–I find myself seeing NaNoWriMo as just another burden.
I want to cast it all off…but if I do, what will be left?