I feel very apathetic and empty.

I've been awake for a few days before, on amphetamines, and it was strange to me how my body was able to keep functioning. I was up for a full thirty hours, but didn't feel tired at all because of one substance. It was disgusting. It's just disgusting to look at your body, see the veins twitching, feel numbness in your fingertips, and realize that your body is just a pulsating bag of flesh and piss. It is horrible to me, to be fully aware of my heartbeat and my lungs and know that I am truly nothing but an animal. I'm a machine. My feelings, emotions, and dreams are all a result of substances within the machine.

Of course I know this, logically, at all times. I simply don't feel it as I do then. Sometimes I feel like there is more to my existence though. I feel spiritual. Hopeful. I feel as if there is something more to my existence. No matter how hard I look though, there is nothing.

I flex my hands during those times, and watch their bones move, pulled by my stringy muscles like the arms of a puppet. I both love and accept my body. I hate it because it's a reminder of how temporary and tenuous my grasp on existence is. I accept it because despite all it's been through, it is here and I am still here. Maintaining it does often feel like a burden though.

Other times, I've been disconnected from my body. By smoking salvia for example. That made me hopeful, because it made me feel as though there may be some way to exist outside of my body. Will death bring me there though? I don't know. I'm tortured by the thought that while I was lost in salvia space, pretending that I didn't need my body, I was still trapped inside of it. Sitting in the back seat of my car giggling and incoherent, under the delusion that I had escaped.

I desire total freedom. Nothing I can do while alive will every be anything more than a temporary distraction. My hobbies, career, and relationships are ultimately meaningless. That is obvious. They will never sate me. Nothing ever will. I can never experience enough pleasure to satisfy myself. I'll never accomplish enough to satisfy myself. If I'm the richest, most influential man who ever lives, I will not be satisfied.

Will I be happy? Yes. My body will always want though. Want food, drugs, and sex. Every waking moment of every day I am tortured by its unceasing demands. It always needs water, or more air. I can feel my organs at work. Feel the indescribable pangs of withdrawal when I do not take my medicine. I fear that my body is inexorably tied to my self. I am my body, but I don't want to be my body. I hate my body.

I hate everything I have and everything I want. I hate having emotions, good or bad. I hate the fact that there is no action I can take to change my state of existence. All that is was handed to me. I'm nothing but an object.