(no subject)

the problem with this dead therapist thing is that every time I met with him, I got sidetracked by my social anxiety, when what really kills my mood whenever it happens is the overwhelming sense that our society is doomed, that the set of promises around which I've built my life are going to collapse faster than I can cope, and I'll be wandering alone in a world with no place for most of the people in it, that America will find itself in abject and permanent poverty, and why would anyone help us out of it?

Much as I'd like to stockpile guns and gold so that I can compete in the warlord-based economy, what would I have to live for in a world where force is the new currency?