I'm a lonely insignificant speck on a has-been planet orbited by a cold, indifferent sun  Homer Simpson

I have to wake up in four hours, and I am just besides myself with quivering rage at how hostile and uncaring this universe can be sometimes.

What set me off is, of course, in the end, rather silly, but, greater follies have been committed for pettier reasonsâ€â€at least this is what I tell myself. It appears that I have lost my 40GB external hard drive, which happened to contain my entire music collection. Now, I know it's stupid to be attached to material things, but really, this is music we're talking about, not to mention a few hundred dollars that I don't really have, and now I will have to endure silence until I can cough up some illusory cash. Thank God I have an iPod. Otherwise, who knows to what extent my psychotic break would've gone.

Oh, man, we will not even go into the rest of my madness. Suffice it to say that, again, it involves a woman, and again, it is a lose-lose situation, and why, oh, why do I find such wonderful situations by which I can torture myself with?

Someone smother me with a pillow already.

The other thing was that I literally feel like God has completely turned his back on me. Not that I've exactly been the most devoted of Catholics, but, you know, I really thought that he was supposed to be merciful.

Let me narrate this story: So I was walking around aimlessly near the Merchandise Mart, when I had this bizarre urge to just go inside a church and sit there and pray. I mean, you know, despite the awful mess that all those pedophiles have created, making me lose all faith in the institution of the Church, I really did still believe in a loving God. I may have ostracized myself from the community while I endured my crisis of faith, but, you know, I always thought that he'd be there when I thought it was time to go back.

So of course, the church I go to is locked, I mean, maybe it's not in the best of neighborhoods. (Although, it is rapidly gentrifying.) So there's this button that I'm supposed to press so that someone can let me in. Ding-dong, ding-dong, nobody is home.

So maybe I was wrong about a lot of things.

In the end, despite the quivering rage that I have no one to direct against, the only thing I can really do is shrug. Fucking A, now what?

It'll be a miracle if I can even go to sleep tonight.

Have I ever told you that sometimes I just really, really hate my life?