I don’t just mean work, that, definitely.
But life in general. Existence itself. And before you think this is just some Redditer it his moms basement, know that a hundred plus years ago one of the greatest and celebrated minds in Leo Tolstoy felt the EXACT same way. He wrote about it extensively, talking about never carrying a rope in hand for he might hang himself, talking about stopping his love of guns and shooting because he was afraid he would turn the barrel to his own head.
It’s honestly all shit. There is no fucking way out. The corporate fakery. The forced conformity and smashing of the individual to become some meaningless cog in a machine. Shit wages where no one can make ends meet. All for a phantom dream of retirement when you’re old, spirit broken, body broken, where you can hide away in your own corner and die because you are no longer of use to the capitalist machine.
In a few decades, we will ALL be dead. Worm food. ROT. Yet here we are, scraping by in this hell scape of work. I truly do not enjoy life. Quite the opposite. I’m so damn tired of all of it.