Chapter 8 The Purgatory Of 9 Till 5

Every working day starts and ends in the same laborious way. There’s no meaningful differentiation from one day to the next. It’s me completing the same task the exact duplicate itinerary for every single working day. It’s a vacuous boring subsistence existence that i have been condemned to endure. The routine however is comforting allowing myself for prolonged stretches of isolation from direct human contact. It’s my solitary employment I have maintained for over a decade now that protects me from proximate human interaction.

Despite the tedium of working in a claustrophobic intellectually uninspiring environment it provides me with solace working in a menial warehouse locale. The dearth of direct social communication the limited verbal acuity that is needed to be a functional employee at TWC are beneficial to my defective personality. The atmosphere however is slowly poisoning me with the noxious fumes of alienation I force myself to abide every single working day. The lack of intellectual stimulation the suffocating ambience of the warehouse where i can sense my dreams being slowly crushed. I can feel my body emptying out my eyes becoming dead and haunted surviving in the drudgery in the machinery of TWC.

My day at work commences early in the morning. The structured rigorously work pattern is me working from 10 in the morning until 6 in the evening. I undertake these hours every weekday from Monday till Friday. Every day is indistinguishable from the previous. I arise from my blissful slumber from my subconscious escape from the dirge of my working reality at around 9 o’clock. I could emerge from my cosy bed significantly earlier. The stress the bleakness of another 8 hours at that dreadful job compels me to arise no earlier than is required in my strictly observed workday itinerary. I awaken earlier than is required before 9 o’clock then realise to my horror its not a day off from the tedium of another day of 8 hours of purgatory. Getting up any earlier would be a futile act i would simply be impatiently waiting to embark on another journey to work. I arise at 9 o’clock almost precisely not a minute before arising only when its necessary when i just enough requisite time to fully prepare myself for the ordeal of a 8 hour shift at TWC.

I force my body to become vertical at 9 o’clock performing the same cycle of repetitive functions. Firstly i rush to the bathroom and commence brushing my gnarled deformed gnashers. Never gazing at the hideous reflection in the mirror. The sadness that will be invoked at observing the ugly image that will appear in the mirror of my bathroom if i make the mistake to fix my eyes on this deformed freak. I brush my quintessentially English teeth which are showing the advances symptoms of gun disease. These once radiant teeth that once along time ago when i smiled revealed a glorious beaming youthful smile. Now in public I’ve become so intensely self conscious at these grotesque unappealing teeth that i refrain from smiling or laughing to prevent me from exposing my ugly fangs to the world. My self consciousness at the sad state of my teeth is emblematic of the flaws the holes in my personality my aversion to be vulnerable. My separation and aloofness from people in order to alleviate the pain the depression i have endured all this is encapsulated in my reticence to smile to laugh to portray my glaring physical imperfections.

I complete the routine task of cleaning my yellowed teeth. It’s a laborious task i undertake everyday in a hopeful futile effort to mitigate the effects of my gum disease and eventual tooth loss. My teeth are symbolic of my fading beauty my decline form a promising young adult into this socially exiled human ghost. After the obligatory cleaning of my teeth. I shave my pasty unappealing face wash my face with mainly cold water and soap. After I have completed these menial tasks in a specific order there’s no time to run a bath. I awoke from my slumber far too late to perform this essential cleaning function. Instead according to my strictly observed daily routine I have a bath when i arrive home from another wearisome 8 hour shift at TWC.

After i have finished my pre work requisite cleaning tasks I dress myself in the appropriate attire for work. I clothe my body in the TWC mandated uniform or rather as i have christened it the corporate prison uniform. As i place the TWC apparel on my skinny ashen body i sense myself sacrificing all my individuality. I am reduced to becoming another corporate robot a mere number in a faceless corporate machine. It’s a daily depressing reminder of how low i have sunk how little i matter in the world. The uniform is indicative that I have become this invisible inconsequential presence in a indifferent cold world.

Placing on the drag TWC garb reminds me of my position in life how i am condemned to working into a menial employment i never desired. As a teenager I yearned for a vocation with some excitement that inflamed my imagination that fulfilled my creative passions. I dreamed along time ago of being a successful musician of scaling the walls of this town escaping the moil of starvation poverty wages. Now I have been cursed due to the severity of my personality disorder to be restricted to a limited vocational opportunities.

I display myself in the TWC attire and everyday my body is imbued with a sense of worthlessness that i am a nothing being just wasting his life in a hollow form of employment. Covering my emaciated body in the uniform is the final step before i embark on my journey towards another day in purgatory. I never gave myself the time to satiate my appetite by having a healthy breakfast to appropriately start the day. There’s not even ample for a warm caffeinated beverage. I wake up like a zombie brush my disfigured teeth and dress myself. Then i leave my isolation cell and depart towards the hive of a TWC warehouse. No opportunity other than to complete these rushed set of customary assignments. No television no consumption of any food.

Then i prepare my mind for the ordeal of vacating my flat and face the intense anxiety of the outside world. Disguising my TWC regalia by placing a respectable coat to mask where i actually work. I’m ashamed that i have earned a pitiful living for over a decade working in such a insipid environment. Ashamed of the waste of my talents of my potential in a intellectual wasteland. With tremendous apprehension and weariness I depart for work. The final act is to place my noise cancelling Bluetooth headphones in my ears. These headphones are connected to my mobile phone a essential item which is required to bring some colour to my day it assuages the anxiety the boredom of working in a warehouse. I require the music to disassociate my body my mind from the humdrum surroundings of my traversal to work. The music is a form of escape as i undertake my expedition towards the warehouse. With music i can lose myself in a fantasy world in a universe of my imagination. Having this music penetrate my consciousness allows me to briefly forget the drag greyness of my living and working background. Music thunders into my ears it acts as a opiate for my soul mitigating the agita of being forced into close proximity with other humans. After i plug the transcendental music into my ears I depart with weariness to my workhouse.

As i walk I become less cognisant of the exterior background i lose myself in my music in my inner contemplations. Never looking up at the sky or gazing far into the horizon. Rather i have these introspective thought patterns induced by the power of the music that inculcates my being with positive sensations. I leave my sad empty flat around 9.30 given me sufficient time to arrive promptly on time at work. It takes me around 30 minutes to traverse to work. In that period a heightened sense of anxiety permeates my body. I find the music is essential in relaxing me in pacifying the nervous energy that runs round my body as I prepare myself for a 8 hour protracted shift at TWC.

I exit my block of flats ignoring any neighbour I might come across. Averting my eyes from any stranger who passing me by. Leaving finally the greyed featureless aesthetically uninspiring block of flats to another meaningless day at work. The horizon in Mayberry as i walk is drenched in a greyed concrete visual backdrop. There’s no trees no green no lush picturesque panoramas just a sea of cars of concrete a visually overload of dulled colours. Mayberry is another mediocre deindustrialised English town where the populous are subjected to endemic poverty with unappealing menial labour. Mayberry is a place devoid of beauty of viability where dreams are slowly crushed by this oppressive town. That’s how i feel about Mayberry a town i longed to emigrate from. Instead i am trapped existing in purgatory working in low skilled poverty wages.

I travel to work everyday travelling the identical route to what feels like indentured servitude employment. It usually takes around half an hour walking at a leisurely pace. With every incremental footstep the anxiety heightens i can perceived my heartbeat racing faster. I have worked at this warehouse location for over a decade and still after all this time I have the same level of unbearable nervous tensions entering the TWC facilities. In fact as i have grown older and my disorder has become more severe the social disquietude has amplified. I trek on the footpath at side the traffic ignoring the exterior landscape. Being completely ignorant of passing strangers remaining submerged in my tiny insular interior world. Habitually staring into the distance being aloof to the urban landscape. Never glimpsing the skyline for a momentary impression of the wondrous beauty of nature. I walk and become lost in my interior universe this inner world gives me far greater serenity than the real tangible world which appears to me to be a icy inhuman habitat. The saunter continues as i enter the final section towards the ominous warehouse. My aggravation increases I perceive a palpable melancholic sadness as i see the gates as i take the final few step towards entering this forlorn place. This journey to the warehouse is always uneventful there’s no unexpected encounters no random exciting events. The same repetitive trudging path everyday rambling like a phantom never interacting with the ecosystem in any substantive way.

Then i arrive usually on time in my meticulous punctual manner. Going through the gates of the warehouse is analogous to a prisoner entering a prison. Everyday there’s a sensation of being confined like a prisoner in this life I’m unable to unshackle myself from. As i enter the facility i am filled with a gloom a darkness its the daily dirge of working here the fact I’m wasting my life working here. I enter the building clock on time refusing to engage with any of my coworkers in vapid small talk. The pang of sadness hits me now at the commencement of another protracted shift at TWC. I stroll in my dissociated stupor over to the locker removing my disguise my coat revealing my corporate TWC uniform. Then i become fully transformed into this mindless worker drone performing mindless tasks like a zombie.

Then it’s the beginning of another prosaic work day another 8 hour arduous shift in the suffocating dusty ambience of a clothing warehouse. I arrive inside the walls of the warehouse staying deep inside my head averting my gaze from any coworkers. In these final moments before the start the anxiety reaches the apex the nervous energy pulsates round my thin pasty body. Every footstep every insignificant social interaction increase the unease i have in existing in this uncertain arena. I adopt this robotic emotionless mask at work. Refraining from smiling or laughing or engaging in any long form eloquent conversation. Refusing to show a morsel of emotion or warmth. Exhibiting emotion laughing revealing my teeth being in anyway vulnerable would be painful exposing myself to a cruel world that i in my antisocial tendencies fear greatly. This is how i conduct myself at work rarely speaking to anybody barely acknowledging any other colleagues existence. When another human did attempt a conversation with me i responded laconically with a monosyllabic listless voice. Most of my workmates ignore me, i have become a invisible presence at work. Disappearing into the foreground disappearing into the inner space of my fantasy world not connecting with any of my workplace associates.

The activation of another shift starts at approximately 10 o’clock. I’m surrounded by my work colleagues with whom i feel no rapport with. Then the manager arrives declares the various workers their specific tasks for the day. The ambience of TWC is permeated with a aura of apathy of lifelessness in this moment. As the shift starts and i feel claustrophobic in the current situation i am incredibly self conscious. The paranoia feeling all of these eyes fixed on me judging me looking down on this freak. At the moment in close proximity to a number of colleagues i need desperately to breathe the oxygen of isolation. I would find it considerably more beneficial to my psychological well being to find a employment where i exist alone partitioned away from human contact. Instead i endure this daily ordeal of social anxiety of existing in uncomfortable workplace conditions. It’s a form of employment i have nothing but animus for the conditions for the measly pay.

After the commencement of the work shift all work colleagues are handed various tasks in this vast oppressive warehouse. When they call my name give me my specific assignment my heart is racing ferociously. I hope to be placed in relative isolation where i am not forced to converse with anybody. Usually i am assigned a task that provides me with limited interpersonal interaction. However in rare occurrences I’m put on a job where I’m in closed confinement with a number of my TWC cohorts. When in these occasions i am required to pick up clothing orders. In these instances my mind my body is consumed with bile with the worst effects of being socially maladroit. Eight hours of working in a suffocating panic attack inducing conditions having no air to breathe. Feeling so very congested working on top of each other feeling the drudgery the moil of these horrendous working conditions. In these occasions there’s no abatement from the relentless anxiety i am subjected to. It’s what I have to endure to survive in order to exist a basic subsistence existence to afford the essential amenities. There’s no other employment i can find where having only a limited set of interpersonal skills aren’t a detriment to securing that employment. It’s this form of employment i am accustomed to where its not a prerequisite to be verbally dexterous to be a functional employee. In the warehouse i can arrive at work shut down behave like a robot and survive escaping into a utopian fantasy world.

On other occurrences i am usually placed on a function which provides me with almost total isolation. A job where i am not forced into close quarters with my coworkers. I frequently work on a function in which I’m don’t a utter a solitary word or engage in a verbal exchange with anybody. On these days when i spend 8 hours hardly seeing another worker i experience a assuagement in the nervousness that usually pulsates round my veins. I can function living deeper in the valleys of my mind. The tasks i am assigned with by my superior is transferring clothes from boxes into the aisles ready to be picked. It’s boring laborious menial labour yet I have a degree of segregation from the rest of the workforce. When I’m allocated these tasks the day meanders along so fast. Sometimes i am so exiled never seeing a manger or coworker I listen to sublime music from my phone even if it’s contravenes the warehouse healthy and safety procedure. When i can listen to music i drift into a serene daydream forgetting momentary the tedium the vapidity of this humdrum workplace employment. Listening to transformative musical arrangements to the infinite beauty expressed through the medium of sound. I lose myself in the heavenly world of musical vibration I’m absorbed in the ethereal beauty of the music that reverberates into my consciousness. In these moments when I’m isolated enough to be free from the prying eyes of my officious superior to listen to music on my mobile device I fantasise about being this iconic successful musician forgetting who i am. Disregarding when I’m imbued with the beautiful music that I’m this lonely solitary man living without human contact. For a moment i forget where i am who I am dreaming of being a person that matters.

Days at work are painfully uneventful everyday seems to blend into another its like groundhog day living the same day endlessly until I eventually die. There’s nothing exciting or fantastical its a bland place to spend a large proportion of your waking hours existing in. Meeting the same blank faces ignoring these blank emptied out people who like myself have lost the lust had there humanity eroded by being employed in this place. It’s soul crushingly boring completing the same duplicate tasks each day feeling yourself becoming numb. In the workplace vicinity I view myself as a passenger in life watching the wheels of the world pass me by. In this employment with my personality i am vacant tourist only truly existing in another virtual landscape in my big blue dream where i am alive and fulfilled.

At TWC there’s little stimulation for my beleaguered soul. There’s the ambience that bleeds sadness and mundanity. The bland unimaginative warehouse decor the dulled coloured pallet of brown yellow and uninspiring grey. No visual stimulation that existed the imagination with a aesthetically pleasing colour scheme. It’s a oppressive environment that is intentionally and subconsciously meant to drain all the vitality away from you and make you feel like a number in a faceless corporate machine. I know in the depths of my damaged mind there’s nothing better out there for me no other vocation I’m capable of thriving in. Due to this disorder i am condemned to exist in this bottom run working poor warehouse labour.

Going by in a 8 hour shift feeling a empty vessel feeling the unease of the numbness that comes with prolonged employment in a warehouse. I ignore all my other colleagues declining to engage in basic small talk becoming almost mute at work. Never removing this mask of callousness finding immense comfort and security in putting on this affected persona of stoicism. I see another person close by and refrain from even non verbal communication. Evading eye contact even when a coworker attempts to start a dialogue i respond with my usually cold emotionless style. Then any further interaction is shut down and i can peacefully exist in this state of aloof detachment never partaking in verbose interactions with my TWC cohorts.

Finally breaks arrives when we take a half an hour lunch break. Unlike the normal socially functional humans I retreat for half an hour into my private safe space inside the toilet cubicle. This is my peculiar routine to never enter the intimidating coliseum of the canteen. That environment i find far too aggravating for my fragile defective personality. I require for the sake of my sanity this allotted period of solitude far removed from the agony the strains of surviving and working around other humans. I critically need this interval inside my personal chamber a fortress of solitude away from the glaring eyes of my fellow colleagues. The toilet cubicle acts as a sacrosanct alcove that provides with solace a stress release allowing to function in this onerous work setting. I need this intermission of privacy where i can breathe freely without the prying eyes of other humans. In this period i go inside a metaphorical isolation tank where my personal autonomy my privacy is restored for a brief interlude. Usually in this eccentric way of spending my free time i listen to music play on various apps on my phone. All these distractions helps to negate the stress levels i experience at work. Unfortunately due to me being engrossed in the music in the multitude of entertainment choices on my smart phone this half an hour lunch break goes by so fleetingly.

In this lunch break i abstain from eating anything preferring to deferring my nutritional nourishment until I’m safe in my flat. Eating at work would require myself to be confined in the canteen surrounded by people the agony of being in that stressful situation would be overwhelming for me. I have a brief period of seclusion away from people always at the same exact time in the identical cubicle. Declining to partake in eating during my allotted break time even it leaves me nutritionally malnourished for the reminder of the work day. It these strange atypical habits i adopt due to the severity of my disorder.

I return back to the moil to the grind of hours in the mind numbing brain labour. I continue the antisocial behaviour refraining from any social interaction. Averting my eyes when i walk by a colleague putting on this aura of coldness. I walk past colleagues with a thousand mile stare acting like a ghost ignoring everybody not even acknowledging anybody existence. It’s the way i comport myself at work or any exterior situation outside the security of my abode. On the outside in the real world I display no warmth no emotion its why i find myself friendless.

In my workplace arena is where i become so envious of other people. I look upon all the beautiful male and female heavenly creatures. They appear so alluring so very photogenic such a stark contrast to my physical imperfections. Occasionally i will take a momentary glimpse into a intoxicating blinding vision of these beguiling beauties. It’s a transitory moment where i fantasise about the unimaginable possibility of love of finding romance. A dream that will forever remain a illusion in my fantasy world instead of a attainable euphoric possibility. At work the majority of the employees are physically unappealing. Middle aged men with bodies coated in a tattoos. Bodies showing the effects of a poor diet with them consuming nutritional unhealthy foods high in fat and sugar. Most employees at TWC are distinctly working class having the stereotypical working class apprentice with a diet of a working class individual living paycheck to paycheck.

However at TWC there are deviations from the physical stereotypes of a warehouse worker. You see these enchanting visions of physical perfection. At work I gaze from a distance upon these ethereal beauties who appear to be angels with wonder with lust with deep sadness. Sadness that i will never break the ice and start a conversation with one of these statuesque beauties. I’m too socially inept too painfully shy to bridge the insurmountable divide and connect with a celestial beauty. At work i stare I fantasise of being in love one of these aesthetically enticing individuals. I see women with long flowing locks of auburn hair. With sparkling eyes that pierce into the depths of my soul without malice of artifice. They smile with exuberance revealing a immaculate collection of teeth that i look upon with envy. There are men who are employed here who have physiques of Greek gods. Human adonis’s with tanned skin and milky American style teeth that sparkle when they smile. These statuesque beauties that prowl the warehouse jungle that haven’t been subjected to the ravages of age that untarnished by the cynicism of growing old. I view theses exquisite beings and wonder what it use be like to engage in physical intimacy to be involved in a romantic tryst with blindly photogenic mortal beings. My mind is ingrained with these fantasies of having a lover a person that validates your existence that makes you feel human. I realise in the chasms of my mind i will never have these wondrous tangible human adventures of sex and love. I am damned to locked inside this box of alienation never to receive the treasure chest of human infatuation.

It’s how my days at work are spent having these protracted daydreams where my insatiable carnal desires are satisfied in my imagination looking at these cosmic wonders with lust. These effervescent beings of radiating beauty bring brief moments of light to my dreary monochrome life. Instead of embracing the light I retreat into my shell denying myself the improbable dream of love into my vacuum of a life. I ignore all these coruscating lights avert my gaze and put on this glacial mask. The agony of a conversation with a alluring worker is too overwhelming for my abnormal personality. I tell myself I’m too ugly to worthless to even be recognised or be seen as a attractive desirable adult. Instead of being vulnerable or wearing my heart on my sleeve I abstain from social intercourse at work becoming this invisible social leper hiding in my shell.

The last few hours go by at a sluggish pace. In the final hours before I’m released from this godforsaken place I’m habitually reviewing the time on my mobile device. It’s a obsessive habit I’ve developed working here wanting the 8 hours in this indentured servitude of a job to be over. Wanting and waiting patiently for 6 o’clock like an old man awaiting for the inevitable death. On occasion I squander long periods of time on the toilet enjoying the wondrous distraction of my smart phone. Getting away with doing no work feels like a small insignificant victory against this subhuman machine. The final minutes ensconced in the lavatory gives me a modicum of relief helping to briefly assuage my anxiety. At work in this soulless factory there is a absence of ambition no drive for myself and the plurality of employees who are trapped in the slave of the wage. It’s a place where i get paid to be bored out my gourd for 40 hours a week. Earning a paltry starvation wage just enough to pay the bills they pay just enough to return to the hive to make more honey.

In the final hour and minutes i wait impassively for the relief of being let out of the doors bars and windows of this haunted venue. I wait in the clocking off queue i am apathetic to my fellow workers declining to partake in a verbal dialogue just being putting on my idiosyncratic disassociated demeanour. I am a stranger to virtual all of my colleagues never uttering a single word towards many of my colleagues. The few workers i am on speaking terms with we share only meaningless superficial monosyllabic pleasantries. There’s no human connection to be found here i am weird alien being unable to bridge to divid and form a connection. Long ago in the embryonic stages of my tenure at TWC i was proficient enough to cultivate friendships here. Now at 33 my condition my asocial behaviour has deteriorated to the point friendships in the workplace milieu or outside in the world is unimaginable.

We queue up like lab rats waiting diligently to be released from our cages. Then the end finally arrives i clock off leaving the TWC premises and inhale the sweet oxygen of being liberated form the slog from the moil for another day. There is a abatement in the nervous disquietude i am no longer cooped up with people in a restricted interior venue. After the 8 hours is over i work home usually in the dark listening to celestial otherworldly music that mollifies all the toxicity that’s been inside me throughout the workday. Now outside of work i have a semblance of autonomy as I’m unbound from the chains of work. I travail the same meandering pathway i undertake each day home to the safety of my dark one bedroomed flat. Nothing exceptionally happens on my routine ordered joinery home. The streets of Mayberry are permeated with a ambience of melancholy and with urban decay. I pass the cobbled streets that are irradiated by the street lights that expose a array of empty shops bordered up bankrupted businesses. A assortment of takeaways litter this town ravaged with long term unemployment and endemic poverty. There’s a absence of vitality in this town no iridescent vivacious colours to illuminate the nightlife. This is a town bereft of natural beauty no trees no greenery to remind me of the infinite beauty of the natural world. No flowers are grown in this barren urban wasteland.

At night the appearance of this town becomes increasingly depressing with the haunted streets walking home under the skyline with all the constellations of the cosmos adorning the skyline the sadness hits me every single journey home. The short trek from the warehouse to my isolated abode i encounter a parade of concrete. No picturesque wonders of architecture or street illuminations its just the same mundane suburban streets. I come across dilapidated roads with potholes it’s emblematic of the decay the decrepitude of this fading once economically thriving English town. Every workday to work and back home again i face this sadness this urban sprawl of bordered up buildings of broken people living broken lives. To witness the decay every day effects my state of mind taking me deeper into prolonged states of forlornness. To be subjected to a ugly unappealing visual landscape everyday slowly seeps into my consciousness. All the lights of youth which once shined so brightly all the fervent passions have slowly faded into darkness with existing in this desolate town.

At night Mayberry appears to me like a gothic ghost town. I meander home in the shadows at night like a spirit wandering the desert searching for some humanity. There’s not a soul to be seen on my journey back to the sanctuary of my flat. I saunter past other houses see homes radiated with life with the warmth of family life flowing in these shelters of love. It’s a daily reminder of the life I’ve left behind the life of human contact of the kindness of family and friendship the life i will never get to experience.

I can sense myself getting nearer to the refuge of my rented residence with every incremental footstep. I am always on the edge never feeling safe on the outside in the uncertain uncontrolled terrain of the outside world. Wanting the control of my isolated dwelling where i am safe from the cold eyes of humans. Despite the crippling loneliness i endure in living sequestered from the rest of the human race residing alone is far more beneficial to my damaged personality who craves solitude like a opiate painkiller. I carry out the final stages of my 30 minute traversal home. From my eyesight i can discern the block of flats where i reside. My eyes are fixed on the ground i decline to observe the local horizon never looking upwards for fear of interacting with another sentient being and having a awkward stress inducing encounter. I dissociate my physical being from the world and collapse into myself into a interior imagined alternative reality. In the final steps I disappear mentally into the music and these intricate daydreams giving me a escape from reality as i perceive my anxiety increasing on the final minute of my journey home.

Now i have almost arrived at my destination and take the final steps towards my drab block of flats. Now I can feel my heart pounding almost to the point of having a panic attack as i am fearful of meeting a neighbour. I have refrained from meeting forming connections with the disparate collection of neighbours who live on my block. I have rarely even spoken to my neighbours mostly I ignore even on rare instances when we see each other, this antisocial behaviour is congruous with my condition. Becoming so paranoid as i enter my block and ascend the stairways to my top floor flat. Paranoid of having a brief painful interaction with a neighbour paranoid of what they think of me do they view me as a weird loner. Fortunately on this specific occasion i entered my block without bumping into a residence of my block of flats. I walk lethargically the final strides towards my flat door. The interior decor of my building is these dreary unimaginative arrangement of colours. The exterior and interior colour scheme has a negative effect on me it drains the life out of me. The optical environment of my abode has the same effect as the my work and home town landscape its a gloomy desolate listless ocular ambience that saps my spirit.

I enter my fortress my private domicile as i lock my flat door. Locking myself away from the tumult of the world until I’m contractually required to leave for work. I cloister myself from human contact until the next workday. As a i take of the manicures of my corporate uniform feeling emancipated from the servitude of working at TWC. My sense of self is restored in this cell of isolation in which i am free to be me to luxuriate in my own company. In this fortress I can indulge my pleasures my hobbies fo the rest of the day.

Firstly though i run a luxurious bath that relaxes my nerves. A lavender infused bath is drawn in which the bathroom is permeated with ethereal classical music taking to a higher plain of consciousness. The bath becomes a therapeutic relaxing habitual event that alleviates the toxic anxiety that i accrue during the day working in a noxious warehouse environment. The bath enables me to escape the moil the drudgery the agita of my life.

After the bath i can relax inhale the sweet nectar of solitude. I can coat my body in my casual attire. As i place these comfortable clothes on my skinny frame i no longer feel restrained by the TWC apparel which is a constant reminder of my place i the world. A reminder that I’m nothing that all i am is a useful worker drone serving robotically a amoral corporate system. For the rest of the evening and night i occupy my limited free time with these escapists pursuits of video games , sublime televisual programmes and music. These are the trifecta of leisure activities of the terminally lonely the socially isolated needing some elation to nullify the pain of having nobody in your life. I also listen to audiobooks to satiate my insatiable desire for storytelling through spoken prose. Closing my eyes laying flat on my bed as I’m taken on a journey into these imaginative fantasy worlds of the novel.

I stimulate my brain for hours with music with literary storytelling. When I have satisfied my intellectual appetite for auditory storytelling i gratify my need for escapism with virtual realities through the medium of stimulating video games. These immersive video games give me a visceral thrill give me moments of elation and exhilaration that’s sadly absent from my real life. In video game i play in these vast imaginative stories with characters with worlds I’m able to relate to. With engrossing linear stories and complex characters that I’m a be to connect with emotionally. All these beguiling ventures i enjoy in my hours of spare time after the toil of work are substitutes for my life which is devoid of any substantive interpersonal communication. I endure a measly subsistence life that needs artificial stimulations in which i live vicariously in these fantastical virtual reality universes. Rather than introspecting about decent into the abyss of emotional despair i tranquillise these negative emotions with these virtual pursuits.

When i eventually retire to bed after being absorbed in these entertainment hobbies i am filled with a pain a ache a piercing loneliness that infects my entire being. I would find more preferable to have direct tangible connection with real people instead of vicarious by proxy emotional connection. Achieving genuine intimacy with humans in the real world is a impossible dream, having friends being in love feelings exhilarated by life are experiences are beyond my impaired personality. Then after minutes of being hit with the aches the emptiness of my vapid life i fall into a deep subconscious slumber and find true escape from the horror of being schizoid. Then several hours later i awake from a sublime collection of dreams for another day in purgatory with the identical routine day after day until my enviable death. Performing the carbon copy tasks like a mindless robot. The noxious fumes of this insular survivalist existence is slowing poisoning me like carbon monoxide chocking my soul removing the joy the desire to even be alive.

The weekend my days off where i escape my personal lassitude and daily grind of warehouse work. It’s when i consume abundant amounts of alcohol to numb the pain of being so severally socially adrift. On my days off I remain ensconced in my private cloistered enclave. Spending days away from the torment of prolonged social interaction. Never speaking to anybody on my days off the curtains remain closed the doorbell the phone never gets answered. When on the rare occasion somebody attempts to contact me i refuse to answer the incoming communication. A stranger or relative knocks ardently on my door i act all quiet turn off the lights giving the illusion I’m not home. Never do I depart from my humble abode to socialise with other humans except in isolated instances when I urgently need to buy some food or need a much needed haircut. Mostly though i live as a hermit crab confined to the safety and solace of my isolated 1 bedroomed flat.

At home away from the coldness of people hidden away from the world in my private vacuum I discover a semblance of bliss. I am achieve a modicum of personal autonomy as i can be free to indulge my passions. At night i substitute the dearth of human company my voraciously consuming copious amounts of alcohol. Usually its 3 nights of pure drunken excess where there is genuine enjoyment in being a live by dulling my sensory apparatus. Getting intoxicated with alcohol i can escape the walls and iron cage of having this atypical socially detrimental personality type. Ignore for the night of inebriation the depression the loneliness that is my schizoid life. I achieve drunken ecstasy whilst partaking in engrossing emotionally absorbing music.

On sporadic occasions i will consume illicit substances. Once a month feeling the ebullient sensation of being high via the smoking of cannabis. This is a different narcotic than alcohol. With the inhalation of a cannabis joint i can explore my imagination have greater appreciation for great works of music and art. There are also special occasions when i digest psychedic psychocative drugs which allow me to temporarily escape the horror of my reality. On these rarefied instances on a wonderful Saturday afternoon away from the glaring eyes of other humans i eat a handful of Psilocybin magic mushrooms once a month. This is a memorable day of hallucinogenic bliss. Taking mushrooms lets me forget reality enabling me to immerse myself in extensive periods of psychedelic induced meditation. When I’m high I’m overwhelmed by these psychedelic visions that explode in my altered perception of reality. Devouring this consciousness altering plant i am transformed from my melancholic disposition into a state of heavenly bliss. Through the ameliorating effects of shrooms i achieve temporarily what Buddhist monks describe as nirvana. In these elongated hours of introspective meditation when high on magic mushrooms with a kaleidoscopic stream of colours floating through my mind I achieve a transient inner peace.

On these infrequent special occasions when i enjoy the full psychedelic effects of the magic mushroom i am spending up to 12 hours blissfully benefitting from this polychromatic psychedelic trip. I usually take the mushrooms early in the morning on a empty to stomach reducing the possibility of nausea. Then i wait patiently for an hour until the magic happens. Then when I perceive my perception of reality altering when i see these visual effects when i feel high like being stoned then I retreat to my bedroom. laying down on my comfortable bed and close my eyes listening to ethereal transcendental classical music. Which is a perfect accompaniment to the psychoactive substance effecting my consciousness. I am horizontal all day until the hallucinations have subsided. It’s a wondrous escapist indulgence that expunges all the noxious fumes i inhale during the working in a stifling workplace environment. Getting high enables my imagination to be untethered to be free. Spending all day removed from humanity devouring voraciously mind expanding drugs listening to great music watching high calibre entertainment makes being alive bearable.

Other times when I’m not getting wasted on alcohol or controlled narcotics i devote my precious free time to creative pursuits. I allocate all day reading exemplary literature and poetry. This gives my culturally malnourished brain some stimulation. Allowing my starved schizoid mind to perceive of a world beyond my insular detached reality. It gives me hope that there is light even for my maladroit personality. I also play my guitar writer poetry compose short stories sporadically. Expressing my inner thoughts in the medium of prose and verse writings helps to keep the dim light of hope flickering in my mind. To release the suicidal thoughts the black dog of depression in this emotional catharsis lets me feel alive for once. Its a salutary experience where i feel like a human instead of a worthless freak. Without the literature, the poetry, the music my various captive passions i would be a dead soul waiting for my inevitable physical termination. Listening to music imbues my love starved soul with the slim possibility of a more fulfilling existence.

In spite of these psychological valuable leisure endeavours which i undertake at the weekend i am still desperately unhappy with my pathetic nothing life. I desire so much more than existing as a human ghost. Wanting a life filled with love with charismatic friends with enduring memories being created. Instead i am rotting in isolation separated almost entirely from other people. My employment provides me with a degree of financial security but this boring vocation is slowly extinguishing all the coruscating colours in my soul that once shone so brightly. It’s a rut of a life with limited abatement in the boredom and misery with solitary excessive consumption of intoxicating mind altering drugs. I envisioned so much more from life than this austere dreary emotionless life. A harrowing life that frequently pushes me to the edges of suicide with the relentless loneliness I have to endure due to being afflicted with a personality disorder. Numbing the clinical depression rather than confronting expressing my pain i repress and have become this emotionless deformed alien who has disconnected from the real world.

One thought on “Chapter 8 The Purgatory Of 9 Till 5

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