I've come to realize I'm a vacuous shell of a person. I have no passion. Nothing that I get up for, each and every day to work on, to do, to feel some sort of contentment from. All these ridiculous ideas I have are just ridiculous ideas. I can't stick to anything because I soon come to realize that I'll never complete it. How can you finish something when fundamentally, deep down, you really don't care about it, even though at the time of the idea, you gain a lot of inspiration from it. I'm sick of it. Been doing this for years and years now. I don't know how to resolve this problem. I don't consider myself a depressed zombie anymore, but maybe I'm deluding myself. Sure, there are times when my depression overcomes me and I fall in a heap for a couple of days but it passes, and it usually passes when I have another idea. But how long can I keep this up. How long can I manufacture these little nuggets of happiness when I think of something new, only to see it blow up in my face. Nothing done, nothing completed, nothing to live for. It's a really lonely existence. While "I think" my depression has improved, there really isn't a lot to show for it. Nothing is what it should be. My personal life isn't working, I don't have a job as yet, and even if I did, I'd soon get sick of that. Just like I did last time, totally bored with it before it even began. Of course I knew I would be... If you have nothing of genuine, lasting interest in your life, than why live? All the people on this forum that say their a loser, say their life is meaningless, have some company in this particular lost soul. Nothing else to say really, it's just pathetic. Absolutely fucking pathetic. Man I'm lonely...so utterly alone.