So now I'm wired and alone and lonely and horny after a hour-long drive home (complete with yet another thorough self-examination of my life and faults and depression and all that sort of thing) and unsure what the fuck to do with myself. I mean, I _could_ write why I'm depressed (lonely, unable to concentrate) but there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of point - nothing new under the sun. I could bitch and moan about how nobody understands me (just like everybody else). I just get the whole feeling of 'why bother? it's all been done before, and my version of it ain't even all that particularly interesting.'
Arrrrgh. Having had the same reasons for depression for the past 15 years really gets me down sometimes.