Still not dead. If I wait long enough I'll definitely find the motivation, or the whatever to
I don't know what, exactly.
Whatever you're supposed to do when everything's all wrong and you've forgotten how to imagine what something not being all wrong looks like.
Stoicism or all the Buddhist claptrap in the world doesn't help much with just plain unsustainable situations.
But I suppose life is always unsustainable.
And I suppose stoicism is just knowing that trying to shovel an ocean of garbage with a teaspoon is a hopeless task, but still trying. But what if the metaphorical ocean is on a metaphorical planet of garbage held aloft by an unending column of turtles made of garbage all the way down? And hypothetical me doesn't like garbage? (What a jackass. Total numbo quorkazoid.)
Maybe "I'm pretty sure nothing I could do could ever amount to anything worth anything even to myself, but fuck you everyone, including and especially me." is still a better reason than most to keep existing.
We must imagine Sisyphus an anxious wreck, unable to function like a "normal" person after aeons of nothing but pushing that boulder to no avail.