The Real World

Life sucks, and then you die.  What a lovely saying.  I always tried not to believe it.  Even now I still try from time to time, but really, what’s the point?  We all die, and life does indeed suck.  Anyone who is happy is either disconnected from reality or smoking some damn good shit.

There is no better place to observe the joys of life than riding on the train at the end of the workday.  The car packed with people wearing suits or dressed in business casual attire who all have “kill me now” written on the blank stare that is their face.  Worn down daily by the inescapable fact that their life is pointless and unfulfilling.

Welcome to the real world.  I spend the majority of my time sitting in front of a glowing box from nine o’clock in the morning until I’m released some eight hours later.  Not that being set free is any better of an existence.  I spend about twenty minutes on a train packed full with other cheerful and friendly souls only to spend the remainder of my night sitting once again in front of a glowing box.  The only difference this time is I can drink and download porn.

It is not by chance that happy hour occurs at the end of the workday.  Barkeeps long ago realized that everybody really does hate their job and would like nothing better than to drink away the misery of their meaningless existence.

I didn’t always think this way.  I once had dreams.  I was once content in my existence.  That all however came to a train-wreck of an end as I stepped though the door into the real world.

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