Realization [don't bother reading]

I don't feel creative.

Lately, it seems that 95% of my life is spent at work. Not so much time as effort. I spend plenty of time at work. I spend most of my thinking and effort at work. It feels like that thing that is me is being used up. All that which I touch and feel that makes me whole is spent at work. This is bad. I do not do anything that is creative at work to be honest.

This place is not worth my life. There has to be more to breathing and taking up resources than setting up printers and networks. I'm living to work instead of the proper way round. This is a bad thing.

What to do? I blog and now vlog a bit. What do other people do to feel like they have more to life than just surviving? Some people write or play games. Some people live through their kids. What I'm doing doesn't appear to be working. I do not feel fulfilled. Does every one go through this? Is this the middle aged craze I've heard so much about. Movies have been made. Songs have been sung.

Is this one of those things that just is and cannot be fixed? What to do?

At lunch today I stood on top of the parking garage in one of the best weather days we have had yet this year. It was just cool enough to be beautiful and warm enough to to stand in the sun and love it. I gazed around the surrounding area. The contents of every degree of my vision contained humans. In every direction for every distance. When I look down there is evidence of humans. When I look up, the future of humans.

Why? What are we supposed to do? Who cares? It all seems like the most colossal waist of time. One day we will spray our selves off this rock and infest the rest of everything. What will a win look like? What are we planning on finding and doing to make the universe a better place? Not for us, for the universe.

The first guy who rubbed the correct rocks together doomed us. Once we had fire, the end was written.

No one offers an answer. I'm not talking the classical "Why are we here?" I'm asking "What is the point?" There is a subtle difference. One is philosophical, the other is cynical. There are explanations that might mean something. The world might be here for the amusement of God or of some fancy computer. Reality might be a simulation. There was something about a turtle's back and an elephant. What other hundred explanations are there for us to be?

...

I need a reason to thing the human experience is something more than a waist of time. There must be some redeeming feature of existence that makes it all worth while. If not, then things are bleak.