Started writing a book

I feel deflated . Like nothing matters. Or is ever going to matter. How much more rotten luck do we need in life ? I spent the past 20 years saving money in order to be able to have an interest income. My plan fell apart when they hit us with this covid hoax. So now , someone who’s never been a problem to anyone , can’t even reproduce just because the powers that be think that the people who have no business having kids are having too many. What has this got to do with me ?

They hate us , I am sure of it. They see us like ants. Don’t want to get too close to us for fear of infecting themselves with poverty and misfortune. They don’t see that the misfortune we’re experiencing is all due to them. Every last bit of it is because of them. The reason why the world is a stuff up is because of the super rich . The financiers . The thirteen richest families . I don’t care what you want to call them. They’re born fortunate and die fortunate and leave their fortune to their children who they train in the fine art of screwing everyone over the same way they did.

I started writing a book about it , and I hope to release it in two years. I’ll aim to write a few words 300 or so every so often. I hope this will make me feel better. People also say I should paint. I just don’t see the use of it. Perhaps some day I will. I hope I can submit it for a PhD through publication. And if I can’t I’ll just write another book and another and another. At least it keeps me away from my mind going into one negative cycle. My mind is going into the unproductive zone and I am trying to bring it back from the brink.

There are some people who’ve seen a painting I recently did and all say I should continue to paint. Perhaps I can do this for therapy. Writing is much easier in a way. I don’t know , I’ll see. Where are we all going is the main thing I am worried about ? And how do we rectify the situation.