birdie7
Member
- Apr 5, 2026
- 12
I was looking for a job and then I found a job, and heaven knows I'm miserable now.
Personally, I think it's cruel and inhumane to be kept alive when it hurts to live. And when you're good at hiding it all like a skinwalker of sorts, there's all the more expectation to want to "better" your life. Why would I keep fighting uphill? The turnover is so… disappointing. I'm not made to last.
Nothing is worth it. I can buy tasty food and feel the same. I can do drugs and sigh solemnly on the comedown. I can stay high, get higher. I can buy things. I can go places.
But I'm still right here, behind this glass wall between me and my life. Sometimes everyone can see me through it, all big and misshapen in a way that makes my brain look small. I don't know how to be.
I hate my fucking job, and my job hates me too. I should be used to this now, this understanding that I exist to be toyed with by various cosmic forces. But I find myself right where I started, staring at my alien reflection and wondering how I got here, why I've been brought here. Why I'm still here.
I don't know if I'm good or bad. I just want to stop suffering. This isn't right. I just want it to stop. You can have the good and the bad all the same.
I wish I could want something. Or at least I wish I could like to have it more than I like to want it. I don't even bother getting what I "want" anymore. Schrodinger's dream: if I never get it, I'll never be disappointed by it.
I'm too self-aware for my own good. I know it's narcissistic to hate myself so much, but it's all I know how to do. Be afraid. Be ashamed and sorry and distant, entirely disconnected.
Maybe I'm not bad, just reclused so far inside myself that nothing touches me anymore. But there's always that threat of being put in my place, ouch, ouch.
Fuck my chungus life, I wish there was a drug I could take to be normal without making me too retarded to go to work
Personally, I think it's cruel and inhumane to be kept alive when it hurts to live. And when you're good at hiding it all like a skinwalker of sorts, there's all the more expectation to want to "better" your life. Why would I keep fighting uphill? The turnover is so… disappointing. I'm not made to last.
Nothing is worth it. I can buy tasty food and feel the same. I can do drugs and sigh solemnly on the comedown. I can stay high, get higher. I can buy things. I can go places.
But I'm still right here, behind this glass wall between me and my life. Sometimes everyone can see me through it, all big and misshapen in a way that makes my brain look small. I don't know how to be.
I hate my fucking job, and my job hates me too. I should be used to this now, this understanding that I exist to be toyed with by various cosmic forces. But I find myself right where I started, staring at my alien reflection and wondering how I got here, why I've been brought here. Why I'm still here.
I don't know if I'm good or bad. I just want to stop suffering. This isn't right. I just want it to stop. You can have the good and the bad all the same.
I wish I could want something. Or at least I wish I could like to have it more than I like to want it. I don't even bother getting what I "want" anymore. Schrodinger's dream: if I never get it, I'll never be disappointed by it.
I'm too self-aware for my own good. I know it's narcissistic to hate myself so much, but it's all I know how to do. Be afraid. Be ashamed and sorry and distant, entirely disconnected.
Maybe I'm not bad, just reclused so far inside myself that nothing touches me anymore. But there's always that threat of being put in my place, ouch, ouch.
Fuck my chungus life, I wish there was a drug I could take to be normal without making me too retarded to go to work
