You spend most of your waking hours toiling your life away so the ruling class can get richer while you get a meager wage, only to give half of your income to some greedy landlord and be left with nothing after paying for your food, utilities, etc. (if you can even afford that in the first place). Whatever money you have left gets taxed to fund american proxy wars in other countries. Your life is a complete dead end and absolutely no one cares. Inflation leads to prices of basic necessities rising while wages fall, and when you rightfully protest against this, the ruling class begins waxing poetic about "pulling yourself up by your bootstraps" or some other nonsense. The weekend goes by in the blink of an eye and then it's back to laboring your life away for some greedy CEO.
And when years of being subjugated by a boring dystopia finally push you to your breaking point and you start having thoughts that you'd be better off dead, that's when suddenly people begin to care. They'll spew their empty platitudes like "don't do it, you have so much to live for" and "we care about you" (lies), and instead of addressing the root cause of you wanting to die, they'll tell you you should go to "therapy" and your doctor will prescribe you a bunch of useless pills, neither of which you can afford because all your money was taken by the government and your landlord, but the ruling class don't even recognize that because they're so disconnected from reality. Or perhaps it's intentional, and the ruling class are desperate to keep you alive because they don't want to lose their slaves.
Some people have spouses, children, and/or families who care about them and keep them sane. Some people have a reason to look forward to coming home from work each day. But us? We're completely on our own, and the only people who care in the slightest are our Incel friends on the internet living hundreds of miles away.
