It Begins
Time off. We dedicate 33% of our lives to sleep immediately upon existing. It’s unalterable. You can’t “opt out” of sleep. You don’t get a free pass. You can limit the amount of time you sleep, but at the end of the day you’re going to be wholly limited by your inherent biology. It’s inescapable.
We live in a society. Yes, it’s an awful meme, but it’s also a fact. We do in fact exist in a society, both global and tiered right down to nuclear families. We are social creatures, and as such we’ve absolutely fucked ourselves out of a perfectly good bartering system with what experts call “promissory notes”. You can now bluster and pretend to have assets when in fact you truly only have some imaginary numbers kept at a bank or, at best, a pile of actually worthless cotton that reads “Federal Reserve Note” on the front. Somehow we’ve allowed the assholes who ran fiefdoms to continue their terrible line of ideas all the way down to present day, where we’re now forced to dedicate another 33% of our lives to making money for someone else. As an aside, we’re allowed to subsist on the crumbs of our efforts, thanks in no large part to those who own the means of production.
What are we up to? Isn’t it something like 66% of our lives are predetermined to be fucking worthless wastes? Yeah, that sounds about right. So we get 33% of our time to ourselves. But how selfish are we that we really need a whole EIGHT HOURS a day to dedicate to ourselves? So a lot of us will take large swaths of that time and dedicate it to families. We rope in another individual and then make more individuals with that individual, whom we then dedicate our lives to providing for and raising. Truly, after the tallies are counted and we arrive at the final number, few of us are actually living for ourselves or our own benefit. In all honesty, a lot of us are really just vessels ensuring our bloodlines are propagated. There’s nothing wrong with that, but if you’ve ever wondered why people are depressed- just think about it critically for a bit. I mean, seriously. Really? This is the lot we’re all given? This is “the best possibility”? No, Candide, it surely is not the best possible outcome of all. Not by a longshot. It’s not even a solid “honorable mention”. Fuck the whole thing, burn it to the ground, bury the ashes, salt the diseased earth where it was felled, ensure the proximity is barren and lifeless. No. This shit is fucking awful, and it makes no fucking sense as to why it’s perpetuated thoughtlessly, blindly, by literally fucking everyone. Anyone stopping long enough to ask “why” is perceived as insane or just “dumb”. What’s dumber, though? Accepting your fate or at least wondering if better options can exist?
Man, I need more than a fucking week to reset my brain from the cancer and AIDS of my daily travels. Fuck. I need like a month of drug-induced catatonia. I need six months. I need… I think I just need to fucking retire. I’m not invested in what I do anymore, and I can’t be bothered to invest myself in any of these futile bullshit details. I don’t know. I know I’m not going to get more than this week, but I’m really hoping that I don’t just unload on someone at work over some stupid minutiae. It’s just in the post. I know it is. It’s coming down the pipe and I don’t know if I can catch it before I just hurt someone’s feelings.
Christ.