(Disclaimer: this mans name is NOT Phil) Hi my name is Phil. The biggest problem I'm experiencing is something I'm not even comfortable discussing with anyone. So I...Phil, and rest assured, my name is totally Phil....am going to just introduce myself and explain where I stand mentally. Please excuse the grammar and none sensible sentences. it is late and I'm a little stressed out. I am 27 seven years old, live with two friends in a house apartment for at least another couple of months. I just went through a breakup from what was easily considered an utterly pointless relationship, and I'm watching my entire world quake slowly but surely from the buckling foundations of promises of inner peace soon to be consumed by chaos and doubt. Spoken like a true drama queen. I'm not exactly suicidal...well actually I am. I entertain the notion of putting a bullet in my cranium on a daily basis, But it's weird, my motivations for dying arnt stemmed from a perspective jaded by miasmic sadness and internal anguish. It's more based on apathy. I feel very little. Like a serial killer in a sea of normality and legitimacy, I know I'm not like normal people. I never have been...and yet I have acquired the experiences, the creed oriented components required to achieve a fulfilling and satisfying taste of fine life. I earned my independence, even surviving an economic recession in the process. I have friends who believe in what I do and accomplished things that, at the time, seemed to matter. And it's all without meaning. As I get older, time is growing blurry, the days and weeks meld together. And im flowing completely in and out of it like I'm just barely awake. For example, I'm nostalgic of a tv show that got canceled ten years ago, except it doesn't start for another two years. I don't know what it's called but I've analyzed the plot well enough to acclaim it an ingenious accomplishment. And I only watched two episodes...or was it a comic book ..who cares. Sex? I didn't lose my virginity until the age of 25, and ranging from my latter teen years to the horribly depressing and anxiety ridden young adult phase, this virginity status was an ultimate beacon of shame for me. When I finally got it, the sex I mean, my brain registered it, and I said to myself "this is the last great adventure..." And it was boring. Despite what the ever insisting nature of the world promised, it was completely bland and dull. I've been bored ever since. The only things worth looking forward to are the disposable products to keep me distracted from an interchangeable history that will complete exclude me: the individual, from the text books. I'm being too vague. Just know that my name is totally Phil, and that the idea of death is always on my mind. The answer is never truly clear. Sometimes it's because I'm sad, that my dreams were unrealistic so I tossed them and then punished myself for being so foolish. Sometimes it's regret for things I could never have the courage to do, and never will have. But I think the best reason I can possibly give to you is that I hate the world and could give two spits about anyone or anything. It's all going down, and kicking and screaming, we're all gonna go with it, be it the death of a nation, or the ultimate destruction of our moral sanctity, call it what you will. All that is good about the world is obsolete. This has gone on too long. My apologies. I just wanted to throw myself out there and say hi. I'll be hanging around for a bit as I try to screw my head back on as i fluctuate in between my inner Eros and Thanatos conflict.