I'm back to that old state of apathy and nothings good enough, but I'll hold my tongue. I make things out to be the highlight of my week, but it ends up just being the day, or hour, or minute, or second. Everything agitates me, no one motivates me, everything seems worth it, but nothings ever worth it. I should probably be happy, at least I'm alive, but then I think about if I weren't; if I weren't then I would never be depressed, but then again I would never be happy.