Ironically innane. Why?

It's as if I have nothing more to my life then this, what's on this blog.
It's as if I think nothing more of this, or that of anything.
It's as if I do nothing more but rot away in my own disease, of blind selfishness.
It's as if I see nothing more but what's immediatly in front of me... myopia is my muse
It's as if I feel nothing more then what's on my skin.
It's as if I am nothing more...
It's as if I am nothing.