Being in the moment is for hippies in loincloths. Essentially, you have to kill your curiosity and passion. Fuck your dreams to see Australia. Live for others and resent them for it.
Dwell on difficulties. Get down on yourself and those you love the most. If they can’t pull you out of this depression they are to blame. How can you be more critical of yourself? Find out.
Be disconnected. Tell a friend why they don’t really get you. Frown at a stranger. Tell a loved one how annoying they are. Stay in bed all day and watch videos of people being tortured. Write belligerent Facebook comments. Why not, you’re so funny and misunderstood.
Turn your brilliant ideas into inaction. Who cares? Turn your values into stagnant promises. What do you value and respect? Your writing? Your family? Fuck them. Nobody listens anyway.
Never find a purpose. Go through life like a scratched-up, broken record, involved in only yourself and your ceaseless internal pain. What do you care about outside of yourself? Nothing! Why should you? Life is a wasteland.
Furthermore, being generous is for pussies and pushovers. So fuck it. Forgive nothing. Never let go. Habits and addictions are a great escape. Nurture your negativity. Keep your body a McMuffin-filled trash can and at the end of the day remember everything you hate. The more you keep track of your worries and resentments, the more miserable you can continue to be for the rest of your meaningless life.
Notes on a Hospitalized pregnant woman 