Life just sucks.

It gets to a point were its beyond malice, resentment, or self-pity. It gets to a point were your brain pours over every moment of your existence, going over every fine detail, a dirty broken rock in the sunlight. And you think and you think and you analyze. You are testing a thesis you came up with when you were born, and you realize that you were really wrong the whole time. It gets to a point were you realize no one really cares about what you do. About what you've done. About what you feel, about what you think. And then you realize that you don't care. You've done nothing to deserve the planets attention and you never will. You are in a state of pure, shining apathy.

I am nothing.
Among a million thousand hundred other little nothings.
On an invisible rock in a system of invisible stars, dust and gas.
This place is comfy, in human standards. I'm sitting and standing and looking out the window. I can see the street below, the neon lights blinking like tiny hearts and the insects scrambling across the street and into their hives. I don't have to think about it, I already know what I want to do.
Life is a game that's been played too long.
In the beginning we felt we had purpose. We sweated and strained and worked and loved, climbing and falling back over and over. We had a goal; we had a reason to push forward-to be complete. To evolve, to worship, to fill our souls with people and things and gods. Now we have everything we could ever want. Freedom, Equality, Love, Religion, Food, Flavor, Entertainment. And we used them, and used them, and used them till nothing was left. We squeezed out the last drop of the human mind. Life is nothing but living. Existing for the sake of existence.
The game is over.
We won and nothing is left for us.