I'm not crazy

Went for Proof at DBS Arts Centre today.
It wasn't satisfying.. :(

Sometimes we just don't understand what it is to meant to live.
We're all just a bunch of losers.
We slog all day long
and result in.. nothingness?
No. There is passion and love.
But when you're dead,
who really remembers what you've done?
Will you even remember what you've done?
Will it all be forgotten?
Then what's the purpose of death anniversaries.
We just pray and talk to something that might not even exist.
No fucking idea what all of us are doing.
I especially hate fucking braggers. You empty shells. You don't even know who you are. You're just there, so alone and fucking clueless on what you're doing. You just want people to know, know how greeeeat you are.

I don't exactly know what I'm saying.

I'm just confused.
Wait.