I have a job. Changed jobs 6 months ago, nearly 7 months now. Had a job for 2 years before then. I’ve been getting only more and more successful. People look at me and say, “wow, he’s doing good. He’s an adult. He’s so mature. He’s won the game.”
They’re right. I’m winning. I’m winning the rat race, I’ve always been winning the rat race, even when I haven’t been trying. Things have always been on my side.
Winning hasn’t brought me any satisfaction. My health is secretly getting worse. My love life has been a hot mess. I’m a social outcast and a pessimist, I manipulate everyone around me just to get by. If they saw the real me, they would kill me. They would crush me. I have seen their face. I know what they look like. That makes me a threat.
And the other winners I see, they’re messes as well. Faltering, don’t know what they want, clutching at straws, unhappy, and hellbent on making others miserable. They’re petty, they’re shallow, they’re so hollow. I don’t want to be like them. In fact, I’m not like them. Without my lying and manipulation, I would not have been able to enter the same playing field as them. Why did I think entering that playing field was a good idea? It seems so foolish now…
I want to step down. I want to be jobless. Live on the edge for a little bit. I want people to look at me and say, “oh, he’s a loser.” I think that would be great for a change. These people that I loathe so much, I don’t want to look good in their eyes. I want to be in a position where I can’t pretend. I can’t lie. I can’t fake it. Maybe that way the next time I find a partner, she’ll like me for real. Not the facade. Not the success, but the real, honest me. Or I won’t find anyone. I’m perfectly alright with that. Better that then fakes and frauds.
Things are changing for me. Every note I play. Every sentence I read. Every letter I write.
When the fear dies, I will be free. And that might mean my death, but at least when that happens, I won’t be suicidal.