Why is it all always about money? When did it become the only thing worth going after in life? Was it always like that? Are we doomed to always long for things that are empty and meaningless in themselves?
Money is the evil of the world. It symbolizes all that is rotten and corrupt, but why doesn’t it seem to bother anyone but me?
I don’t want to crave it, I don’t want to lead my life with the sole purpose of getting more money, so I can buy clothes, so I can buy food, so I can buy a new sofa or tv... I don’t want to play the game, but I’m being forced to play it. I feel dragged, kicking and screaming, into an arena that is not mine.
Sometimes I long for death, but aren’t I already dead? Aren’t we all already dead inside?
It kills me that the only way you can have a decent life is to either kill yourself at work for peanuts, or be a cheat, or ruthless enough to stump your feet on others.
People often dream of rising from the ashes, to climb up the social ladder and become somebody. I used to long for just the same thing, but now I look at that ladder and the crowd fighting for the same bloody spot, and I realize that they have nothing that I don’t already have or could have, apart from things.
Was there ever a time when you could choose to build yourself a house in the woods, catch some cattle and live off the land? Was there a time when choices actually did exist?
Look at me, I should be so lucky: I am plagued with a plethora of ‘choices’ every single day of my life. Should I pick the blue shirt or the red? Should I go to class or stay in bed all morning? Should I become a doctor or a lawyer? What movie shall we watch today?... Decisions, decisions.
I’m sorry, but those ‘choices’ are empty, they only exist to cover up the fact that essential choices have been robbed from us. Those basic choices that are at the core of the way you want to lead your existence... They aren’t here, they are nowhere to be found.
We are trapped in golden cages like fancy monkeys forced to perform tricks at the zoo. Except after a while, they don’t feel forced, they’re conditioned to feel as though it was the most natural thing to do...Well, I don’t. I’m dying inside. I can’t stand the emptiness of everything we do everyday, and each day passes us by, blank and worthless. People learn to pretend that what they do makes sense, but all they do is part of a routine everyone is forced to perform.
Say I decide suddenly to pack my bags and cat and set off into the wild. I couldn’t find anywhere wild enough in Europe unless I have money. Say I decide to settle somewhere where money is not an issue. Borders mean that I couldn’t just settle anywhere I want. Even if I found a spot where ‘officials’ would actually allow me to remain, and even if I could build myself a wooden cabin, where would I find my cattle? It’s not like cows and chicken run loose across the fields, these days, is it? It’s not like I could just catch a couple and start my cattle form there, is it?
No. Even an attempt to escape back to basics is twarted by modernity. Even to return to simplicity, you would have to have money. How ironic... It actually costs more to reach the wild than to remain in the smoke of the city.
I am a prisoner. We all are. I fight against the golden shackles on my neck and wrists, all the while knowing that I will lose the battle.
You never beat the system, you can only prevent it from crushing you. It’s a rolling ball down the steep slope, not even Hercules could stop.
In the city, when you fall, you can’t just get up and fend for yourself as one would have a chance to do in the wild. In the city, when you fall, you only fall deeper. And then people stump on you.
It’s a wonderful life...
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