You know, man I've skimmed through your post history, and I really can't say I disagree with anything. Gonna give it a good read later.

Most people keep themselves occupied with other stuff (work, family, hobbies, work) so they don't really ruminate on this stuff.

And hell, how's anyone supposed to have deep and meaningful relationships nowadays? Too much work, too many things to do, too little time, too little money.

Most of the deepest friendships people make are from their years in childhood. Back during a time when everyone was young, not so emotionally-walled off, and had all the time in the world to waste. And if you miss that boat, well that sucks.

If you really sit down and looked around, life sucks from an absolute standpoint. Your dreams and ideals get beaten out of you year-by-year. All those pieces of you that made you human, slowly squashed under the weight of life. Either you lower your standards or you keep holding on, knowing you'll probably spend the rest of your life chasing something that'll always slip right out of your hands.

And then synaptic pruning kicks in, and you slowly stop giving a shit.

Year-by-year, it stops mattering.

Year-by-year, all that suffering fades away, until all that's left is a dark fog floating off into the past -- taking with it emotions and thoughts that you'll never feel again.

Things don't really bother you anymore. Sure, they may spark a feeling here and there, but it dissipates quickly, and you're back to a tranquil baseline.

And now with your emotions all dried up, so too does all sense of purpose or direction go with it. Sure feeling like shit sucks, but so does not being able to feel passion or exuberance.

So what's there left to do? Where will you find a guiding light? Well, you've got bills to pay, atleast one mouth to feed, and a crack-addict of a nervous system that needs its next dopamine fix.

Only way to satisfy all that nagging is to go out and make money. Get those dolla bills to keep you filled.

It doesn't make your heart sing, but being able to live under a roof, with a full stomach, and a little bit of free time scratches some itch: "I'm comfortable. I want to stay like this."

So you go out and you make some more money, but now you're bored. Yeah a roof over your head, and a full stomach, and some time to kill is nice, but that itch is still there. It's not as frenetic as a real emotion, but it's the only thing you feel right now, and it just keeps on nagging: "I need more."

So you go out, make a little bit more money; see those numbers go up in your bank account and something about it feels right.

You've now got a bigger roof over your head, a faint hint of discernment for cookery, and some more expensive ways to waste time.

But that itch is back at it again: "is this really it? Is this all my life's gonna be?"

Now you're getting bored of all these material things, and decide to go "back out there." Heaven knows you haven't had any real or meaningful interaction with people in years.

Then you meet some one, and slowly but surely, you start feeling strange. Colors are brighter, everything seems to have a pleasant aura around it, and this is the first time you've actually smiled involuntarily in a long time.

Slowly that wall gets demolished, brick by brick.

And before you know it, life hands you an accident. Normally, you'd be momentarily peeved about surprises, but something's different this time: you're OK with it.

Everything is great. That's something you haven't thought in a very long time.

Then 9 months down the road that happy accident turns into a stormy ordeal -- momentarily.

But when it passes, as it always does, there's something wonderful with the world that day. You feel like "this is it." This is how life should feel like. You've reached the highest high in your life.

And then comes 2 more decades.

They're filled with grief, strife, anguish -- many times all at the same time.

It's not like it was the time long ago. This time you feel like it's something you should see through.

And so you do.

2 decades come and go. How quick time flies.

You've steeled yourself through it, and made it out alive. Perhaps not without a few bruises, and few more walls, but alive you are.

Not as alive as you were on that day 2 decades ago, but still kicking.

And the days go by, the phone rings less and less, and so too your emotions.

In no time, you're back where you started, with that itch right by your side: "is this it?"

If you were unlucky, and that accident turned into an unhappy one, then yes, this is it.

You don't have any energy left.

Your body is old. It nags and groans in the mornings. It nags and groans all day.

Surely your special someone feels the same.

Outright on their face? No. They've built up the same walls you have, and now you're merely there because all your acquaintances have gone.

But in their heart of hearts, they are the same.

You want to feel indignant, to scream and shout, to feel something, to know that you're still alive.

But it's gone. You've crossed your peak 40 years ago.

How much time is left?

Who knows.