The theme was fear; in all humans, we're scared of what we don't know. The one thing no one knows all about is the future. It's unpredictable, and that's terrifying the future could be filled with joy or danger, but no one knows. However, spending all your time worrying and panicking about the future doesn't let you predict it.
We push ourselves every day, slowly destroying our intrinsic motivations. Wearing ourselves down physically and emotionally just so when report cards come around, we see that A+. Because if I don’t get that grade, I can’t graduate, and if I can’t graduate high school, I can’t get into that prestigiously, obnoxiously rich university, and if I can’t graduate from said prestigious, obnoxiously rich university, I can’t get a job and if I can’t get a job and fall into the never-ending, constantly working system that is capitalism then…
What is the point? What was the end of psychologically torturing myself since 14 for a piece of paper that apparently determines my future? What was the point of endless nights with no sleep for a class I couldn’t care less about? All the sacrificed relationships and never going out just for a 4-digit number summarizes my intelligence. All of this work for the future, for a future that we don’t even know? The world is burning up; will it even be here by the time in 25? Animals are dying. Pestilence, famine, war, and death are all around us; it seems if one piece of society is happy, it must come at the cost of others. I finally got those flashcards; they took a whole day to arrive! Thank God that the postman didn’t go home to see his family and was instead able to drive to the factory and get it to me first thing in the morning.
The postman’s family: Well, I can’t feel guilty. He applied for the job. He must have known the hours, and so must his family. It’s not my problem. You work to live; that's just how the world works. Or is it the other way around? It doesn’t matter; it's probably his fault he has to be a postman. If he worked harder in school, he wouldn’t be stuck in a dead-end job in an apartment too small for him and his pregnant wife. I’m not a bad person, I reposted a global crisis on my social media, and last Christmas, I spent 1 hour at a homeless shelter. I am a good person. I am a good person. A hardworking person. A determined person. Maybe if that postman had a higher sense of self-efficacy, his life wouldn’t be the way it is.
Graduating college. No more excuses as to why I don’t have a job and stable income, a family, or a house. It’s all up to me now. But I’m just 22. Did you know the brain isn’t fully developed until someone is 25? But I’m just 22? No time for excuses. I am a good person. A hardworking person. A determined person. How was college? It was a fantastic experience that I wouldn't change for the world. All the nights alone, crying about a quiz on mycology, psychology, and all theologies. The party life was terrific. I heard. I never experienced it but I mean what the fun of going out with your friends and meeting new people is? There are more critical things to focus on; college isn’t forever.
Getting a job? That’s easy enough. I worked hard in college, never skipped a lecture, and went to all the alumni meetings. No one could possibly be more qualified than me for this position. They’ll get back to me in two weeks max, and once I get that job, everything will be smooth sailing from here on. “We’re sorry to inform you we’re looking for a candidate with more personality in their application.” What? Personality? Per… personality? But I’m qualified. I did everything right; how is this possible? The rent’s getting a bit expensive. I’m going to need to pick up a job quickly, But this is just a minor setback! I’ve done everything right; this will all work out. I am a good person. A hardworking person. A determined person. The post office is hiring, god these hours are horrible but a job is a job.