I am barely hanging on with my life right now.
After all the mess this year with my love, career, family in crsis, I actually felt good.

I feel good, because I know I am enjoying the suffering.

I enjoy the ansomia. I enjoy the lonely nights sitting in the office, staring at the screen for hours till dawn.
I enjoy the feeling of being betrayed after nearly 30 years of struggling against abuse. I enjoy the abuse I inflicted to others.
I enjoy the unbearable feeling of ...nothingness... of ...sadness... of ...rampaging rush of rage.

I believe I know what Franz Kafka(1883 - 1924) wrote:

"I have the true feeling of myself only when I am unbearably unhappy."

Yes. This is a feeling I have back in University. And I was writing a good amount of stories. I want to go back.