To celebrate half a hundred...

It's been a long day, and I've thought for a while. I don't know, but I guess I've come to a point in my life where I finally identify myself.

I'm the guy who you hang out with to make yourself look better. The guy you would only go to (swear on this) only if you have a favour to ask.

A little indulgence in self-pity there, no doubt, just leave me alone. I guess that should be easy for most of you. The level of which I'm sorry about and angry at myself is beyond what I have ever imagined.

The last time I was asked to tag along for something? Months.
The last time someone talked to me without asking for a favour? Days.
The last time I went out for some fun with a few people? Weeks.

I'm not desperate. I'm not sad. I'm exasperated. I'm tired. I'm... In a loss for words.

I've lost it.

I've forgotten how to bring a smile to people's faces. I've forgotten how to, when a lone, not think and sigh about this. My so-called talents are fading. My headaches get worse and worse. I'm totally oblivious to everything people's talking about. No one takes me seriously.

If you have so much as thought about it while reading this, I thank you. Otherwise, I have nothing to say.

And don't say anything. Do not speak a word. Just... Think. Yeah, that would great for me.