Transition. Uncertainty. Cafecito Con Leche

I've been laying in bed most of the day, which considering my history, is a bit troublesome. I have a tendency to retreat here in an attempt to barricade myself from reality and solely listen to my own negative thoughts. Thoughts you may consider silly -- and that I will consider ridiculous in retrospect.
Things are feeling rather hopeless, I am doubtful, yet serenely apathetic. I stare at my ceiling and consider what it will be like a few months from now when my house doesn't sell and i'm in debt up to my eyeballs, having lost my chance at going to school yet again and having nothing to look forward to. I try to imagine that you won't leave me, but considering how unpleasant I will become, I wouldn't be surprised if you did. I realize how severely pessimistic this is... but having accepted this guarantees that I will not be let down.
It is better not to care; there is nothing worse than being bludgeoned by unfortunate events with an optimistic smile on your face, led only by mediocre hopes and ultimately falling exponentially harder into an abyss of failure -- something easily avoided by simply expecting nothing at all and taking it day by day.

No money
no food
no fridge

i'm lonely

i'm fucking tired of this orphan thing

i'm tired of my stoicism

i am tired of this life.


but what does it matter? I am one of billions of people on this planet, many whose hierarchy of needs aren't even satisfied on the most basic level, yet here I complain, typing away on my laptop computer in my air-conditioned home...
what a joke.