I just... I can't do the "smile and nod" thing anymore, you know? Like, my boss is sitting there today talking to me about "key performance indicators" and my quarterly review, and meanwhile I’m literally still smelling the mold from the apartment I was in three hours ago. It’s so stupid. I’m sitting there in this nice climate-controlled office with a designer stapler and a mahogany desk, and I’m thinking about this six-year-old kid who told me he ate a packet of ketchup for dinner because the electricity was out. And the supervisor is like, "We need to optimize our intake efficiency," and I almost laughed. Like a real, Joker-style cackle right in her face. It’s a joke. The whole system is just... it's a farce. People keep telling me "God has a plan" or some garbage like that. My aunt says it every time I see her, usually while she’s drinking expensive wine. And I want to ask her, okay, what’s the plan for the baby I saw today with the cigarette burns? Where’s the DIVINE ARCHITECTURE in that? I’m serious. If there’s a guy upstairs running this show, he’s either a total sadist or he’s been asleep since 1994. It’s not a big deal, I guess, I’m probably just tired or whatever, but I looked at this mom today—she’s twenty-two and looks fifty—and she just stared at me while I handed her these useless forms. Like, "here, fill this out in triplicate and maybe in six months we'll give you a voucher for some milk." It’s dehumanizing. It’s stultifying. (Look at me using big words while I’m basically vibrating with rage, haha). And the thing is, I’m part of it. I’m the face of the machine. I go home and I eat my organic pasta and I watch Netflix and I try to forget that the "urban revitalization project" everyone’s so hyped about basically just pushed three of my families into a shelter that’s a warehouse for broken souls. But hey, we got a new artisanal donut shop on 4th street! So that’s great. I saw a rat the size of a small dog running past a toddler today and my first thought wasn't "oh no," it was "man, that's some impressive survival instinct." If I don't laugh, I'm gonna start screaming and I don't think I'd be able to stop. This is stupid, I know. I should be grateful I have a "good job" with "benefits." This sounds so dramatic, sorry. It's just... I'm sitting here at 2am on my floor and the silence is actually loud? If that makes sense? I keep thinking about how I'm supposed to be this "professional" who stays objective, but how do you stay objective when the world is literally on fire and we're trying to put it out with a leaking thimble? I'm looking at my career ladder and I'm like... where does it even lead?