As I grow older, I am becoming less and less convinced of the reality of Hell. For the mere reason that the miserable nature of my existence must surely be punishment enough for any of the bad things I have done.
For the past several years, I have genuinely tried to stretch my boundaries, to reach out professionally, to grow, only to discover that a drone will always be a drone and it is ours to accept that lot, and not upset the system. I had a taste, however briefly, of a middle class existence, and it's clear I do not belong there.
So here I sit, in the middle, awake enough to know just how terrible conditions are around me, but powerless to do anything to change it. My job is not to think, only to do, and to be guided solely by the orders of others whom society has dictated my betters.
It is a disgusting condition, and I loathe it. But it is my job to do, not to think.
I only regret that I have brought children into this existence, because my duty is to them, however wretched the world around me might become.
I have dumbed down my resume, removed my degrees, deflated my job titles, in the hopes of getting anything better than the $10 an hour that is barely survival level. I am done.
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