And...

I am supposed to continue the story, and I eventually will. But, here I am sitting home and thinking. I can't seem to find an ounce of motivation left in me. I got a message to have dinner with someone at 7:30. By mistake I said yes. It will be a waste of time I know. Just like I know I need to find my angle I think I have lost somewhere. Never before I have been this unmotivated to pursue any real value... or any value at all. Comfortably perpetually numb, always on the border between some sort of appreciation for life and utter disbelief in the economic existence. At the same time I feel younger and older than everyone else. Why am I plagued with constant questioning of life, universe, the million whys and half a million because ofs? Is it just the sheer availability of unstructured time? Either way, how can one be happy like this?