Pills don't fix it.
Drugs don't fix it.
Trying harder sure as hell doesn't fix it, in fact, the harder you try the greater the pushback.
Try to do good in the world and you will be pushed down. Try to share your dream with another only to realize they know nothing of your soul, and you're left wounded again.
The only answer seems to be mediocrity. The unremarkable. Resignation and subjugation to the system. Be a good little man, don't cross any lines, keep your mouth shut and punch that clock.
Each punch like a ticking time bomb, the tension of monotony building within. The hatred, the anger. The inner rage at being confined, yet exhaustion, because you know you have no fight left. You pass through the motions, muster a smile where necessary, and let the numbness take hold. Numbness is better than feeling.
Always will be.
I wonder, if anyone ever happened to read these words someday, if they'd be saddened by this pathetic fucking existence. The most unremarkable, insignificant story likely ever told.