A Series of Words

I have nothing worthwhile to say, so instead I am going to type out a bunch of nonsense that no one is going to read.

Laptops are very nice machines. They have a screen. The screen is bright and is frying my eyeballs. The screen is the sun, but the sun is scary because it gives you cancer. I might have cancer, but I'm an American so I don't wanna go to the hospital. I might die after I'm done typing this. Typing is a funny thing. My fingers are just doing their own thing, meanwhile I'm just thinking about words. Fingers are useful things. I use them to play piano. If I lose my fingers, I'll become upset. Being upset is a form of expressing emotion. Emotions are annoying. I'm bipolar, so my emotions are more annoying than usual. I need to learn emotional maturity and figure out how to separate my emotions from my thoughts. Thoughts are all connected. The brain is just a bunch of pathways. A series of separate functions that all think about and towards each other. They must love each other. I wish I was loved. It's unfortunate that my emotional stability depends on the existence of other humans. Otherwise, I'd gladly live in isolation. People suck. Well, no. People are great if you can find the right ones. But so many aren't very good, and that makes me sad. I wish I could be happy all the time. But happiness can only exist thanks to sadness. If was was always happy, I would never be happy. For now, I feel happy, typing on my laptop, which is a very nice machine, mainly because I spent way too much money on it.

Irrelevant meme but I added it here anyway