Another Fucking Shitty Year

I don't even know what to write right now. It's been a difficult year full of physical pain and weighing possibilities and thinking about the future and trying to not drink and be responsible and figure shit out. So far the end result is, as I drink, I don't know shit. There are plenty of things that I could do with my life but I don't seem to want to do anything. The inspiration seems to be completely gone and I am having a difficult time harnessing it. It used to not be this way. Every night with a pack of cigarettes and a bottle, pouring booze and writing in my smoke-filled office. Now, I just feel tired, exhausted. I turn on the television and never settle on one thing to watch. Just keep flipping those channels. Then I go to work and listen to people. Day in and day out, listening and talking. Everyone has their opinions and garbage and whatever. Everyone fucking sucks. I've sat on the drinking side of the bar and never taxed my bartender's patience or really asked for more than a drink. Why do these people pour their fucking lives out into my ears while I pour alcohol down their throats. Yeah, it's obvious. That's the job and I'm also a shit magnet. Every asshole on this planet, it seems like, wants to go to Chicago just to talk to me and piss me off because they don't realize that I don't give a fuck. Alright, let me stop right here. I'm going to get my thoughts together and start writing.