What's My Problem?

I don't know what's wrong with me. Okay, I know there are a lot of things wrong with me, and I can name many of them (I eat soup with a fork, I scream at small animals, etc), but lately something's been really wrong.

There's nothing inside of there you silly man.

My concentration is shot. I mean, it was bad enough before, when pocket lint used to distract me, but now it's just terrifying. I can't stay focused on one thing for more than five minutes. It's like I'm friggin' Hammy the squirrel hopped up on coffee bean injections. Considering the fact that I'm in my exam season, it's literally killing me. I've been thinking about going for a medical checkup, but I'm sort of afraid of what I'll find. Like what if I've been kidnapped by aliens and implanted with an alien clone baby that'll burst out my ass when I go poop? No, that would be uncool.

Not only that, but my writing/drawing/creativity is down the drain. I haven't written anything new for months. I think it's a lack of audience, but also a realization of my own failings, which makes me a little shy nowadays. I've lost a lot of the confidence I used to have in my own writing. I mean, I always knew they were shittier than a monkey's palms, but back then I didn't care. Now I can't write a poem without listening to depressing music (Linkin Park CDs), and even then, it turns out to be crap.

Sometimes, I don't even think the world is real. Like I can just reach out and grab hold of reality, and peel it back like a bad drawing. It just bothers me that nothing makes sense anymore - people are ignorant, the sky is always grey, and we have cartons of liquid eggs. There's obviously something senseless about this reality. Even the people sometimes seem like bad, poorly-paid actors that only exist to trick me into believing this false world.

I've lost inspiration. Intelligence. Health. I don't know what's wrong with me.