it's been a year since my pages first went online.  there is no celebration, there is no party, there is no applause.  i sit in a dark room, no lights on, cold, rainy, and gray outside.  much like my inside.  depressing electronic music plays in the background.  machines do have emotions.  i can prove it.  listen to the songs.  not that you'll like them anyway.  not that you exist.  not that it matters anymore.  once you accept your isolation, it's weird going back to non-isolation.  i'm getting to that point, but i'm not quite there yet.  give me a few more years, and i'll forget what having another person even remotely care about your existence is all about.  i wonder what i'll be like then, if i'll grow a beard and long hair, becoming a total classically stereotypical recluse.  i doubt it.  i've been living too long in places where that sort of appearance is unacceptable, thus i'll never resemble that.  i wonder if i'll have a full breakdown, drop out of school, and live with my parents for a bit.  that is more likely to happen. yesterday, while walking on the quad, i saw some unknown mother holding her newborn child, cradling it, lovingly bouncing it in her arms.  i wanted to yell at that woman and ask her what her point was in bringing another living thing into this rotten world, since it will just end up suffering.  then, i wanted to tell the baby, "Welcome to your crappy life.  Prepare to be disappointed."  as if something so young could understand, or even believe a statement like that.  am i mean spirited?  i don't think so.  at some point, everyone realized that life in general is a complete waste of universal energy.  all you do in life is go from random event to random event, feeling miserable.  in between you feel slightly less miserable, by some random event making you feel like there is a reason for traversing from event to event.  then, you go on feeling miserable for a bit more time, until something uplifting happens again.  it's an endless cycle, as are many things in life.  if you're aborted, stillborn, or die at an early age, you should consider yourself lucky.  you won't have to live through modernity. when i walk on the quad, i see many people all happily conversing, maintaining friendships, or making new ones.  sitting there, amongst the grassy plains and trees, they're all so peaceful, not worrying about anything really.  i'm envious.  even when i'm apathetic, i don't worry about what is at hand, but more of how whatever just happened will affect my future.  In the future, they'll all have nostalgic college flashbacks about their picnics with friends, meeitng their so called "love of their life," and other such things.  i, on the other hand, will have nostalgic flashbacks concerning nights spent alone in my room, staring at the computer screen, panicking about my intelligence or classes, the general anxiety, and perhaps the occaisonal fun time i've had here, or pleasant memory.  it's funny, most of my pleasant memories are those where i'm alone and just listening to music being depressed.  it's pathetic and cliche, but that's all i am anyway. Perhaps the point of having a lousy existence is that you have no one to share it with, so you just become more bitter, and have even lousier experiences.  After all, no one really wants to hear you complain or rant, and after a time, if you do that constantly, everyone stops associating with you, which is where i'm headed for.  somedays, i couldn't be happier.  others, i just don't know.  i don't know anymore.