#pointless

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We’re never going to change anything. There is no point in trying. So the only thing we can do is change ourselves. For better or for worse. Or just for something different.

And the most pointless job in the world goes to……

A measure of my existence2019Papier-mâché

A measure of my existence

2019

Papier-mâché


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I know I haven’t been active but you guys deserve to know this happened last night FUCCKKK

I know I haven’t been active but you guys deserve to know this happened last night FUCCKKK


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But way before…when I’ll have nothing left to say

Relapsed recently. It’s a terrible fucking thing to fall from a time of comfort. It’s worse to remember where you were and to see where we’re at now. We feel like I can’t do anything. It’s so hard to do anything or get motivated to say anything. Every move and every action I feel we need to take will totally get scrutinized and in the end there’ll be no point. I’m useless, and I’m inadequate. I’m replaceable and I really don’t have anything to contribute. 

I’ve helped no one. 

We have no “deliverables.” Everyone else has done these amazing things during their time here and you’ve done absolutely nothing. Your work is, in essence, pointless. We’ve done crap things in the months we’ve been here apparently. We freaking created documents and guides, and fucking pumped up activity in social media and developed new chapters and relationships. I’ve traveled tons around to help promote and you know what I have to show for it? Reprimand because my boss isn’t clear on what he wants from us. When we try to schedule a meeting, it never works. We try to reach out and he’s too busy, which is understandable. I’m a lowly useless minion who’s been more of a thorn in his side and apparently of everyone here. 

We can’t trust anyone because apparently they say things that we’ve said in jest and take it for real. Granted to be fair they don’t know me well enough to know my sarcasm, but when it’s unsubstantiated rumors you have to be mature about the information you receive. 

This is not the place for support. This is a place of stifling and of being put down. Of being micromanaged and of being told we won’t make it through smiles and fake friendships. There is no place less real than here in the office.

It’s all so utterly pointless. I can die right now and it’d make no difference. 

We’ll disappear. We’ll die because it’s all so utterly pointless. We’re expected to do everything and we only get yelled at for the things we don’t do. We have no success. Nothing we’ve done to help.

I am a waste of space. Fuck it all. 

Why can’t you do anything with a narwhal under water?

Because you can’t see the point.

They say the sky is the limit,
But for me there is no sky,
I live in a box with no escape,
To me the black walls of depression are my limit.

I am locked in a box,
No way out,
I can’t smash the walls down,
I am trapped.

My box shrinks until there is no more room,
Nothing can enter and nothing can escape,
I am trapped with no way out,
No one can save me.

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