How pathetic/Depressed/Down the drain/Willy Wonka deep dark chocolate depresso are you?
To make it simple, let me give you some context:
How many people out there are just struggling with life? Seriously, you’re just PATHETIC! A true loser, through and through.
Your gender? Questionable at best.
You're down in the dumps, scraping the bottom of the barrel, where even the cockroaches have left in search of better living conditions.
You might see yourself as a loser, but to everyone else, you’re like a sage perched on a throne of despair, dispensing wisdom that no one asked for. You're good for nothing but a poster child for failure!
You’re on a job hunt, but there’s no position available for you—even as a grain holder for the ants’ team.
You want to study for a better life or ace your school/college/university/competitive exams. However, if “procrastination” were a profession, you'd be the CEO. So getting out of bed? No chance!
The only thing you’re committed to is binge-watching sad shows and reading manhwas, mangas, and manhuas—drowning in your despair, crying and wetting your pillows while contemplating your life choices.
Your parents? Let’s just say they could use a masterclass in emotional support.
You’re practically a ghost at home, haunting the fridge at 2 AM like a tragic character in a never-ending horror movie.
Friends? More like invisible air. You’ve cut ties with people because of your mental traumas. If they were any less present, they’d be mere figments of your imagination. Your social life consists of scrolling through photos of other people's lives, questioning whether you ever had a life of your own.
And don’t even get me started on the school/university/job crush who’s head over heels for someone else. You’re basically the sad background character in their rom-com, left wondering how to survive your own reality show of heartbreak and loneliness.
On the other hand, even though you're an asexual, aromantic, lonesome-loving creature, you’re not loving whatever life is throwing at you. It keeps slapping your optimism right out of your sorry ass, again and again, until you don’t even want to try.
You’re a poor freak, just eating pizza—or whatever—mending your broken peace of mind, getting fatter than a pig on high demand.
You know you’re a criminal in your own life, and even when you want to escape this rut, you just lie there and sob until you hear music matching your mood, only to plan again and fail again.
So, how pathetic are you really? Do you embrace the darkness and laugh at the absurdity of it all(pft, like a lunatic), or do you just lie there, marinating in your misery like a sad piece of forgotten sushi, waiting for miracles to happen?
(Write down your stories. Let's shout out your unheard miseries, frustration, true selves and whatever the flippity dippity toppity ropt you have to tell without any silver coatings.)