Shed Some Tears

Unimportant

Beep! Beep! Beep!
Wake up. Stumble out of bed. Shut off alarm. Sit up and sigh. Make for the bathroom. Turn on the shower. Adjust eyes to fluorescent lighting. Bathe. Dry off. Get dressed. Eat a snack. Drink some water. Brush teeth. Leave the house. And pray.

Now, the prayer isn't a religious one. It's far pettier than that. It's the prayer of a man who has been so beaten down by his own existence that he yearns for a stress-free day. Hell, a decent morning would be good enough for him. This routine is one of the many things that have dragged his enthusiasm for survival down, down into a sullen black pit.

Enter: Seymour. 25 years old. Average intelligence. Mediocre health. First in his family to finish University, yet this crowning achievement has not done anything to improve his standard of living. Every chance he gets, Seymour makes a bad decision. From spending his money on useless video games, procrastinating on important errands, spending almost no time walking around in the world trying to better himself. It's clear the kind of life contract he has subconsciously agreed to abide by - one that consists of apathy, self loathing and an overall disdain for any interaction that doesn't immediately benefit him.

But Seymour is sad. Unimaginably sad. This may not come as a shock, but it's certainly a surprise to him. His childhood was filled with expectations and opportunities. Family members praised him, teachers adored him, his peers were envious of him. All his life, he had been assured that the future only held riches and greatness.

This wasn't the case. The future held a shitty 8-hour shift, five days a week getting yelled at over painful-to-wear headsets by intellectually inferior customers. Despite having successfully graduates from University, Seymour wasn't dealt the best of cards in terms of employment. The best he could land was doing Tech Support over the phone. Day in, day out, he took abuse that many don't even know exists. Abuse from unintelligent people who buy products they don't understand how to use. Seymour tries his best to reason with these people, educate them on the issues and resolutions. But to no avail, because just like him - all they want is instant gratification.

This went on for years. Each day was effectively the worst day of his life. Wake up. Drive to work. Pray the next call doesn't have a screamer. Break for lunch. Back to work. Clock out time. Drive home. Eat, eat, eat, food helps the pain. Drink, drink, drink, alcohol numbs the brain. Play, play, play, video games provide a temporary escape.

This is Seymour.
He's about to change the world.