I work a minimum wage, retail job.
I work this job to pay for my car, so I can get to work.
I work at this job so I can pay for school, so that later in life I can get a higher paying job.
And I’ll work at that job so I can pay for not only my car to get to work, but also a roof to cover my head.
Work and school are a part of the life I was brought into.
A social norm set in the suburbs.
A place where everyone is raised to do the same thing.
To mow their lawns and dust their material objects and wash their cars every Saturday.
To spend Sunday mornings in church, and their afternoons sitting around a table of food with other people born into these social norms.
Working Monday to Friday so they can afford the things that they have been taught are necessary to have.
Filling spare time with hobbies, music, sports, sex… cheap entertainment with immediate satisfaction.
And they continue to strive for this lifestyle until they are old enough to retire from their job and basically spend all their final years enjoying themselves with the hobbies they tried to fit into their routine schedules.
They collect memories, feel the difference between joy and pain, learn lessons, make mistakes, and do what they are taught is the acceptable way of living.
But is it really living? Does anything they do really count as a well spent life? And who defines what is well spent and what is not. Is it their education? The amount of money they make? The people they create relationships with?
What is the whole point? What is their purpose?
Why put themselves through stress, worry, frustration, and pain only to receive little satisfaction or happiness in the end?
They give and give and give their strength and sweat and energy into living these stereotypical lives.
Sure maybe they found some form of inner contentment through having children, or touring their music, or having more money than their neighbor. But it doesn’t last. Soon their children are stressing them out, or their music becomes boring or they find themselves alone with their money.
And then what was the point of working towards it? If it can slip from your hands as fast as you reach to hold on to it, then why bother?
I don’t see the point.