Existence.

Complacency is my downfall. I am unmotivated, unimaginative, un...everything. When does it get easier? I doubt that it does. What is it that I am living for exactly? Do we even have a real purpose, another thing that I doubt. We are just occupants of this round spinning glob of life -that by chance was habitable and we therefore inhabit. It wasn't a miracle, nor was it fate...it just happened. Existences doesn't make sense to me. I wish I was ignorant of my existence.