The struggle of purpose
Wake up, shower, drive, work, eat lunch, work more, drive to dinner, eat till you get heartburn, drive home, play video games, sleep. Do this enough and eventually you'll ascend the corporate ladder, one small step for you, one large increase in your paycheck. Then one hits a wall, you're no longer able to ascend past middle management, you plateau. You have wife and kids now, and the kids are going to college soon. You can't risk anything anymore, you need the job or else everything falls apart, so you press on, clocking in day-in day-out until you're 60. Retirement calls and you take out your pension funds to pay off the remainder of your kid's university tuition debt.
Is this it? Is this my purpose in life? Is this the culmination of 16 years of education? Is my future 40 years of being stuck in the same cubicle, staring at the same monitor, leaning on the same beige wall and eating from the same cafeteria? Is that fucking it?
If this is the life that I will lead, then I want to end it all by 40, go out with a bang. What have I done, what have I not? Let's see, I want to go skydiving, master jazz, own a 930 Turbo ... oh wait, I can't even afford to buy a house in this day and age. I have to pay off a burger with klarna instalments, train tickets costs more than a round trip to the Moon, and on top of that, give away 50% of what I earn to the incompetent oligarchs that has run my country into the ground.
In the words of the famous Mark Corrigan: 'Butter the toast, eat the toast, shit the toast. God life's relentless.'