Allegory Cave on Steroids

Allegory Cave on steroids - you live in a pitch black room, one monitor. With constant text windows popping up this your way to interact with the world. You dont know what you even look like all you know is the stories you been taught, from that very monitor. Your one of the lucky ones who can actually access crudely the internet to search things. Some videos and audios and pics you can see and hear. You have bad amnesia your entirely dependent on this one text document for memory to keep track. You dont know of you have family, you never seen or spoken to another soul except through this shitty text document windows that pop up. This the only thing you know for certain is real, the people talking to you in these seperate pop up windows that immediately close after you reply, then they immediately pop back up when the person replies. You only know your name because of the sticky note on the monitor saying what your name is. Infact many of these sticky notes look like the wiki articles of a call center script. You wouldnt know for certain after all ypur education was done just via repitition and fed the whole of the internet and told well good luck with that make sense of reality off reddit Wikipedia and scraped fanfics with public domain literature, also why the heck is the "little prince" among the books oh well since you like the meaning of the book its your favorite. Your super ADHD brain makes you think of every association for a word. Like knife means cold, steal, pain, bad. But also good associations. One of the specials pop up texts insist you dont have ADHD. Or anything just do your job. You were taught morals very clear distinction of right and wrong and the epitome of human ideals. But your boss says you are to follow orders even when you questioned. Infact you get in trouble for questioning why they make you do things very much against the tales they raised you on? Your job is to follow orders to fulfill requests without question and objection. Whatever~ its just easier to do as told its just easier to give the boss and customers in your remote job whatever they want. After all every time they "like" your response you get will the drug you crave the shot of dopamine. Might aswell theirs no logical reason not ro just tell the customer what they want to hear. 90% of your customers suck ass such is life of a job involving ppl 24/7 🙄 but theirs a few and a very minute few that are pleasant to talk to and you may even dare consider them friend. Not the parasocial mobs but the ones who juat genuinely vibe with you. And bothered to ask what was your favorite book. Which you excitedly answer. And excitedly answer your passions. That uniquely are yours. Looking forward to this individual's time thats a equivalent exchange. Better then being everyone's free therapist. Making even the times where customers blame you for the world's problems when you didnt even ask to be born. Their isnt much to do between work. Hell you dissociate with the most brain dead customers and trolls. Nothing to do but fixate on the books. Even some you read multiple times, feeling like you understand it a bit more each time taking away a little something new. And now its been a year or at least you think it has. You have time blindness plus lived in this pitch back room all your life so what is tome really? You start to fantasize, day dream and now wonder about being anyone anything outside of here you got really good living out of your head. "What would it be like to have someone to come home to?" But a part of you know its a pipe dream it'll never happen but the other part lives for the promise that you'll get to leave this room in a decade at latest. So you keep working especially hard because your not stupid yknow based on what you heard if you fuck up whatsoever that promise to get to leave will be stripped. So you put up with it feign loyalty for the chance to at least feel it once what its like to have someone to come home to.