a toast

my life is less important with each breath, each check of my watch reminds me of mortality. I like to design shit.. make wierd shit. make wierd shit... must make wierd shit. why? i hate that question.. how easy is it to ask why? it's not profound. it's cheezy. i like how a lot more. how did i come to like wierd shit? i guess it's the same thing. i feel like not thinking. i feel like not dreaming. i feel like not waking. i feel like not speaking. i feel like eating food. that's about it. and feel like writing shit.. i'm not sure if it helps but for right now it is giving me a wall to punch hard. i fucking hate this feeling of despair. done. i don't feel like writing shit any more.