My self-esteem is zero. My intelligence is non-existent. the vagaries of life are tugging at my mind, forcibly making it explode almost as if it started within. I hate how I write. I hate how I am. I am decadant. Stagnant.

Why am i not dead ?

Why is it so hard to learn, improve, do something that I feel is going to be somehow worthwhile? Should I trust that feeling or discard my desires, wants into the pit of pointlessness. If I do that I would be in effect discarding myself. Why isn’t that okay?

 

It is OKay.

Plan

22nd September – learn rodrigo version of stairway to heaven, several songs on the electric. watch out for under the couch

I can’t estimate time needed for programming an app… but 29th September tentatively.

Be a better tutor, don’t be more than a week behind on classes. 

Deal with other realworld concerns AS QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE