The epitaph on Bukowski’s grave sums it all up very well. I don’t feel like trying anything anymore. Writing, talking, laughing, thinking, hoping, being. I’m just fucking tired. Mostly tired of being invisible. The real reason I don’t have a Facebook page isn’t because it’s boring and too time consuming as I proclaim…in all honesty it’s just depressing to see how few friends I have, although I have to say the quality of my friends is top shelf. But this is why I avoid social media. Suddenly everyone can be a witness to your unpopularity. I’m not even sure why I have an Instagram account. Seeing pictures of beautiful smiling people enjoying life together is just another reminder that I’m alone. Alone, alone. I’m struggling to see the point here and I’d rather disappear on my own than to be visibly invisible.