I don't exist for anyone's amusement, except maybe God...if there is a God. If there is a God, I wonder if he punishes us because we're not amusing him. Maybe that's why "idle hands are the devil's tools", because once you stop amusing God, he/she/it sends gives you to the devil. He's done with you at that point, after all. I don't fucking know.

I feel myself getting older. I can feel my skin softening, and my insides rotting slowly. I've existed on this planet for nearly 11,000 days and I still haven't figured out why I exist...assuming Descartes was correct and that thought = existence. I still haven't been convinced that this isn't some kind of Solipsistic nightmare...does it really matter anyway? I have no real freedom. I was created, directly or indirectly, and unless I kill myself, death owns me as I have no control over when I will leave this planet.

With that said, does anything matter?