Every day is a struggle. Everything is a chore. Create for the social media to drown your thing out in 100,000 other attention grabs. Make art for commissions to have every line meticulously scrutinized and critiqued. An hour turns into three, and my profit became a deficit. But when we live in a capitalistic oligarchy and don't have much money... or let's be real, if you do have the money you become a hoarder of it. I would know. My nephew was injured, and has an insurance pay out, asking him for $50 is like pulling teeth. Money makes you indifferent. I could help, but it's not gonna benefit me ultimately, so I wont... call it an investment. I hate living. The planet is on fire, and keyboard warriors are mining crypto, and millionaire, billionaire are taking 3 minute jet rides, or just flying Fido to their next location. Eat breakfast in paris and dinner in Tokyo. Lives that don't think for a second of anything outside of their scope. But that's all of us. Aw, someone struggling? Well it's not me so I'll just keep my head down. We'll watch people be murdered on TV and not blink but if it's sex, that's horrific. Wiping my own ass is a chore, eat food to shit it out in a few hours, and if I'm lucky I don't piss my pants on the regular. People go their entire lives not having an accident, not this bozo. I make free videos and the add revenue pays out after 6 months (making it to the minimum deposit of $100) make one video that's different and all the regulars can't stand it. The entire existence for my content is for me, and everyone got it in their head it's for them. I am property. And they're for sure going to tell me that I did a wrong when it is the commenter projecting their own life failings onto me. Mean comments? Jealousy, envy, lust, all wrapped in a less than a paragraph of misspellings and bile. It's going to be 100 degrees here today in Illinois each year a bit warmer than the last, but that's fine. I gotta go to work, I can't think about how unforgivingly hot it is or will get. When we run out of water people will migrate and republikkkans will say build a wall, then we'll kill them for wanting water and a cool reprieve. And we'll kill over the last drop of oil too. It's a finite resource, but we'll happily burn it to make our planet hotter. I imagine if a future civilization carbon dates this time. It will just be a layer of plastic. No sandstone, no fossils, plastic of every color and shape. Microplastics are making us sterile and stupid. But that can't be helped. 8 billion of us. And y'know it's gonna be yoir sperm pet that will save the world! Absolve you of any guilt! Just give it to your kid! Here son here's a planet on fire and your fellow humans will kill you for fun! Isn't living in a world where you have to distract yourself from fun? Listened to a podcast about how the military is the biggest polluter and then the speaker segways into having his thrid kid. What a stupid fuck. Knew that this world is a shit hole, and went gotta kick this can a little farther down the road! Escapism works only so well, you have to come back to this shithole at the end of it. I'd say go enjoy nature, but what nature is there anymore? We see an empty feild and go, yeah, I need a mall there. Or just clear cut forests for ass paper. There is good news they tell me, but it's all temporary until someone comes along to throw stones. Can't have anything nice. Nothing. Saw a video of a giant lego giraffe and one of the legs was attacked, and bricks were broken. I don't understand. It wasn't doing anything, and someone felt it was an attack on them, and did something to vandalize it. I was over helping a friend clean an evicted room, and just seeing all of this person's belongings sitting on the curb and vultures came and picked through the valuables. That's what happens when you die. Everything you love is placed on the curb for the vultures to pick, and the trash man to eventually crush flat in his truck. Sentiment only exists while you're here. Nobody gives a shit about anything you like, and if they do they're gonna fight ya on it (Steven Universe fandom anyone?) I'm so exhausted. Exhausted of everything. The pain in my guts when I'm hungry the ringing of the phone, cleaning, washing, drying, sleep, eat, sleep, eat. I'm an ant on a rock. I'm even smaller than an ant, smaller than the bacteria on pond scum, insignificant. Moot.