Work work work work work bleh

It’s been only two days since I started my temp office job, but it feels like I’ve been working for two months already. I feel so exhausted.

I have no stamina for office work. Only two days and I need a holiday already!

Why, why, why, oh why do people have to work for money to survive? Life is so sad.

I’m always wondering about people who hate their jobs but stick to it for years, with no hope of ever having a different future. How do they find the motivation to go on, day after day? Why do they even bother carrying on with life when all they’re doing is dragging their feet through the days and waiting for death?

Oh. I suddenly remember the recent spate of MRT deaths. I suppose that answers my question, somewhat.

I’m not depressed or anything. Not much, anyway, because I’m actually angry.

I’m angry that I can’t get to do what I want to do in life, even after I’ve worked so hard and so long for it. I’ve been working for it and waiting for it since I was 15.

History will write me off as a sad, nameless statistic so I might as well not have been born at all.

Zillions of people before me have been written off as sad, nameless statistics. Why did they even bother?

Well, if I had to force it, I could come up with a HUGE list of blessings in my life. Yes, I know how to count my blessings and I am really optimistic deep down inside by default (since I can’t kill myself, I might as well be optimistic).

But, you know what, bottom line, all the little blessings are meaningless when I’m faced with the horror of my unwanted existence.

Oh, well, time for bed.

Then yet another day of blah.

On and on and on and on and on and on.