What happens to people when nothing is valued or earned? When everything becomes materialistic and disposable? How do we convey the satisfaction of working toward something to entitled children who only demand more?
What about when we aren't perfect, when we're tired, when we've worked our fingers to the bone for 30 plus years and don't have a damn thing to show for it? We've lost it all once, twice, or so many times we can't remember... but we're still drawing a breath so we ought to be grateful?
What do we do when we can go no further? When every fiber of our being screams for us to stop? When we can't endure another rant, whimper, vent, whine, bitch, moan, grown, tantrum, crisis or teardrop? When we realize nobody is interested in listening to our shit? When we wake up to the reality that it's everyone for themselves, and we've given everything we had so freely?
What do we have when we learn that love is a lie? When our self esteem is mutilated by the toxic bastards who gave us life? When we treat our partners like hostages? When we trade secrets on how to take without giving? When we pride ourselves on coming out on top and it means leaving another human being face down in our wake?
What does it mean when we cry for no reason? When we find pleasure in unpleasant thoughts? When we just can't do the every day tasks that we're supposed to do? When routine becomes such a fucking grueling chore that we would rather jump off a building and call it a day?
What do we do as people whose employers keep demanding more and we've got nothing left to give? When our souls are bought and sold and traded on the open market for their profit? When physical labor and skilled trades were once the bedrock of our civilization, now looked down upon like peasantry from the eyes of a prince?
What do we do when we've been to hell and back during life? When we've made amends and apologies? When we've learned to forgive and to live better and to lead others by positive example? When we can barely hold onto what little hope we have left? When our own simple ideology has no place in the prison-like world we've been sentenced to? When our recipe for happiness is ruined by the vile mephitis of decay? When we force ourselves to deny what we know in our hearts is true?
The grim fact that a foul stench is all that remains of a culture's morality.
What the fuck do we do?
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