So I've spent the last days on the couch, watching tv, thinking about all the things I should do instead of doing nothing & going back & forth between selfhatred & selfpity. & then I start thinking about all the people in the world that have real problems & what a stupid crybaby I am that only complain & whine over shitty stuff like the fact that I can't pull myself together enough to get this done. & then I cry a little bit more over the fact that the world is such a mess & that it won't get any better even if I actually sit down & write the essay, 'Cause who the fuck cares about my "vision of Africa in 2030"? It just feels so presumptuous to even think about it, like the lifes of millions would get any easier just because a bunch of middle class twenty-somethings from one of the riches countries on earth writes a paper about the future of Africa. Fuck it. Oh Ijust love myself right now!
Sorry for the rant. I'll get back to the crafting when I'm done with my first world anxiety attack. I'm working on a housewarming present that I'm making for my dad (he's moving away from Stockholm at the end of January). Also thinking about learning how to knit, but I'm guessing it won't happen any time soon.
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