/lit/ - Literature

>>18700449

I know I should live for the future but I'm not interested anymore. I put so much work into developing a marketable skill I could make a career out of just to never see it pan out over years. I will probably be homeless for the 4th time in my life at 27 and I already know I've given up hope on a better future.

I value a lot of different things. With writing it feels like the intentions, thoughts, and feelings of people both alive and dead are lessons and hints at how to live ourselves. It seems like no one is interested in this or in progress, like all of humanity can't handle it's power as a whole would rather be retarded and impulsive than strive for something better. I'd like to avoid struggling in many of the same ways as people who already lived it, but that's unrealistic as we are now. I'm small, I don't need to flourish and would be fine if I could make just enough money to live, but I've only ever made enough to survive. I was roped into an industry that is all contract work in corporate companies. I'm so bittered by past experience that i can't bring myself to work a job and be a slave to the pettiness of other people. It leaves me so spiteful and sour that I'd rather be self destructive than in this way than let it consume me. If i can't survive doing something I value and have to work, I just want to work quietly and alone. Unfortunately for an uneducated minimum wage slave with no training that's not an option, and I'm probably going to kill myself in the next few months because of these conditions.

It's a weird feeling, like I'm overflowing life but who I am doesn't fit the present world. I'm suffering from all the same faults of pride because I am uncompromising and unwilling to putting my burdens on others. I can't see a point in living if I am both useless to society and unable pursue my true interests but worst of all I'm hopeless and would rather not live like this.