I’d rather be dead than work in an office

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INFP hell realm

It’s not a suicidal thing. It’s not even remote gloomy. But, if the gods commanded that I must work in an office for the rest of my days, then I would absolutely rather just die now.

Life seems so utterly inexplicable, mysterious, and precious, and I just can’t see how or why i’d waste this incredible opportunity to be alive working in a fucking office… or warehouse or factory or retail outlet. And what for? To pay to live. To pay to fucking live. We can’t just have food. Oh no. You want to eat so that you can live? Get a fucking job, son.

It just makes no sense to me at all. And yeah, I know ‘everyone else has to work, so why shouldn’t you?’. Well, i’ll tell you. It’s because i’m not a fucking obedient moron. I can think, I can ask questions, I can most certainly question authority, and i’m too enraptured by the amazing possibilities of life to bother wasting a single breath of my existence processing fucking data.

What are you all, fucking nuts? Seriously. What is wrong with you? This is what you want? This stupid game of making as much money to buy as many products is the conclusion of your astonishing presence in the universe? You can’t think of anything better to do?

I’m sorry to be so obnoxious. The truth is, I have been pained and plagued with ‘get a job’ and this crushing conformity for my entire adult existence, and, in the words above, I detect a dollop of bitterness and resentment that continues to linger. I know that life is difficult, and I know that many share the same eyes, and I wish I had an answer that wasn’t just avoidant or escapism. I also have to admit that there are many who are more than satisfied to question nought and to just plod along enjoying what they can until game over. I suppose what i’m looking for is an answer for myself… a way through this life that doesn’t reduce my soul to a sultana… a way that maybe can be shared with others to save them too.

There are hints and clues to something bigger and more meaningful to life. I mean, why do we have certain passions? Why do we have certain talents? Why do certain things interest us as at certain times and not other things? Are these guiding tools? Are these clues to an underlying purpose and design to a grand game of life? If we follow this guidance will life unfold in waves and patterns of something beautiful and meaningful and unique to us? And if there is purpose and design behind our lives, then does this universe support our fulfilling such purposes? Are their mechanisms inbuilt into reality for supporting our material survival as we explore higher states of existence?

I don’t know. But whether there be truth there or not, it seems like something worth investigating. It seems like an experiment worth conducting. I’d rather experiment and fail than submit myself to the drudgery, that is for sure. I just cannot get over the sense that this culture that we experience cannot be all there is to life. I just cannot believe that the sum total of my existence is to shop. And if it is, then so much better to be dead. Truly.