I Have Nothing To Contribute.

I have nothing to contribute. All of my artistic endeavors suck. I become frustrated and abandon my efforts before I develop any real skill in the matter. Even by day, I can't seem to do anything creative. I shuffle papers, write documentation, and help make sure things conform to an artificial system of self-perpetuating nonsense. I am part of the self; I perpetuate the system.

Fuck.

Yesterday was an emotional rollercoaster full of rage; today was an existential crisis. What will tomorrow manage to bring to this house I games I laughingly call a mind?

All of a sudden, my head collapsed. It became an intellectual singularity of directionlessness. What do I want to do? I can float some ideas, but all get trampled on by the next question. Why do I want to do it? Two days ago, this didn't seem to be an issue; it wasn't even a question. Now, all of a sudden I have no answers anymore.

I'm trapped. By work, by money, by this financial slavery they call debt, I'm trapped by a mortgage's worth of student loan debt. What the fuck was I thinking when I signed up for that shit? I avoided things for a little while longer at the cost of a high five-figure price tag and my freedom.

And so, I do what I do. I make some money. I pay these fuckers back. These fuckers that profit off of my education. Who gave them the right?!? Who started the idea that I will learn and you will make money off of my learning? Trapped as I am by it, I perpetuate a system. I perpetuate a soul-crushing, mind-numbing catastrophe.

I'm not sure whether I want to break shit, or make shit. I'm good at former, and terrible at the latter. Aren't we all?