waterlogged roads

i'm going through a terribly soul-sucking phase of depression. 

again, it's not intense sadness. it's a dulled sense of life. everything just feels like mindlessly going through the motions. deriving none of the fulfillment, fearing none of the devastation. it's like i just have to do life. no uniquely animating reason to continue living. my days are simply a series of consuming.

there are brief moments of vibrancy. there were times that i was hopeful that life was on the upswing. that i had it finally figured out. but no, it might be that i was just fooling myself into thinking that life is going to get better again. i've written about it recently. i had seemingly happy moments.

now it doesn't feel real. it was definitely unsustainable. i don't know whether i'm worried about the future. worried perhaps with the present state of lifelessness.

i've been afraid that i haven't been deriving pleasure from traveling. i was trying to enjoy the most beautiful sunset the other day. it just felt like i needed to do it. but it would've been fine if i didn't. there were sufficient reasons to see the beauty in life, but none felt like they mattered.

is it perhaps because i've seen enough of life to have proven that the promise of happiness after the pursuit is fleeting?

as i kept chasing and chasing, the peaks of pleasure got duller and duller. now it feels like a nauseating continuum of rolling hills. i just want to get to the end. i feel like i wanted enough, and i'm just waiting for it all to end.

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