Scattered Thoughts of a Scattered Mind

Seven

Vacant eyes glued to a flickering screen, aged hands typing aimlessly, a middle aged woman sits within the confined area of her faded cubicle. Her purpose? To work her day job. Why? To make money.

Like most people, she once had dreams, a passion for what made her feel most happy and fulfilled. However, her dreams have long since been demolished by a materialistic society obsessed with paper bills, and she was forced to conform to what she was expected to be.

I peer inside her work space, observing the empty shell of a human sitting directly in front of me. It is a tragic sight, and the fact that this is something worryingly commonplace makes it even more so pitiful.

Having seen all I could bear, I walk away, whispering, "I would rather be dead than live a life of such dread."