Darkover
Angelic
- Jul 29, 2021
- 4,909
From the moment we are born, we are shackled to a body with fundamental needs—food, water, shelter, companionship—that must be met simply to survive. These needs are non-negotiable, forcing us into systems of dependence where autonomy is an illusion.
Capitalism, like other economic systems before it, thrives on this coercion. The necessity of labor is not about fulfillment or choice but about survival. Without money, basic needs go unmet. Without work, money remains inaccessible. It is a closed loop designed to ensure participation. For most, life is not a journey of personal growth or self-actualization, but an endless grind to afford the essentials needed just to exist.
Those who cannot or will not engage with this system are punished accordingly—ostracized, shamed, left to struggle in poverty and homelessness. Society offers no true alternative, only suffering for those who dare resist its demands. Even self-sufficiency is largely a myth, as land ownership and resources are hoarded by those who were fortunate enough to be born into better circumstances. The very structure of society ensures that true independence is virtually impossible; even those who attempt to live outside the system find themselves bound by laws, regulations, and the limitations of available resources.
The cycle is perpetuated through procreation, where new lives are brought into the system without their consent, raised to accept this coercion as natural. Parents tell their children that hard work is a virtue while ignoring the reality that work is not an option, but an obligation. The system sustains itself by indoctrinating each new generation into believing there is no other way. Education systems are designed not to cultivate critical thinking or true freedom, but to prepare individuals to enter the workforce, ensuring the cycle of labor and dependence continues without interruption.
Worse still, the exit from this forced participation is guarded with moral and legal barriers. Suicide is demonized, stigmatized, or outright criminalized. Even in places where assisted suicide is legal, it is restricted to those deemed sufficiently ill or disabled. If you are simply unwilling to endure an existence you did not choose, the system provides no escape beyond suffering. The illusion of free will collapses when you realize that opting out of life itself is not even truly allowed. And for those who do attempt to escape, they are met with intervention, coercion, and punishment, as if their personal suffering must be prolonged for the benefit of the system rather than for their own well-being.
Autonomy would mean the ability to choose—to stay or to leave on one's own terms. Yet that choice is systematically denied. We are told life is a gift, though no one asked for it. We are told to be grateful, despite the burdens forced upon us. We are told to find meaning in struggle, but who benefits from our suffering except the system itself? The burden of proof is placed upon the individual to justify their own pain, rather than on the system to justify its cruelty.
If life were truly free, participation would not be mandatory. If it were truly fair, survival would not be contingent on relentless labor. If we had true control, we would not be condemned for wanting out. Yet, here we are, bound by obligations we never agreed to, in a world that punishes refusal and leaves no viable alternatives.
This is not freedom. This is servitude with no escape, a game where the rules were set long before we arrived, and the only real choice we have is to keep playing or suffer the consequences of refusing to participate. And still, they ask why so many of us want to quit.
To see the chains, one must only open their eyes. And once you see them, you realize just how tightly they are fastened—how deeply they cut, how impossible they are to break. The prison of existence is one with invisible walls, but walls nonetheless. The more you struggle against them, the more resistance you face, until exhaustion sets in and you are left with the only option they permit: compliance.
And so, the system continues, sustained by forced participation, driven by necessity, and protected by a collective refusal to acknowledge its inherent cruelty. Until the day comes when the chains are broken—not just for one, but for all—this reality will remain a prison disguised as a world of opportunity.
Capitalism, like other economic systems before it, thrives on this coercion. The necessity of labor is not about fulfillment or choice but about survival. Without money, basic needs go unmet. Without work, money remains inaccessible. It is a closed loop designed to ensure participation. For most, life is not a journey of personal growth or self-actualization, but an endless grind to afford the essentials needed just to exist.
Those who cannot or will not engage with this system are punished accordingly—ostracized, shamed, left to struggle in poverty and homelessness. Society offers no true alternative, only suffering for those who dare resist its demands. Even self-sufficiency is largely a myth, as land ownership and resources are hoarded by those who were fortunate enough to be born into better circumstances. The very structure of society ensures that true independence is virtually impossible; even those who attempt to live outside the system find themselves bound by laws, regulations, and the limitations of available resources.
The cycle is perpetuated through procreation, where new lives are brought into the system without their consent, raised to accept this coercion as natural. Parents tell their children that hard work is a virtue while ignoring the reality that work is not an option, but an obligation. The system sustains itself by indoctrinating each new generation into believing there is no other way. Education systems are designed not to cultivate critical thinking or true freedom, but to prepare individuals to enter the workforce, ensuring the cycle of labor and dependence continues without interruption.
Worse still, the exit from this forced participation is guarded with moral and legal barriers. Suicide is demonized, stigmatized, or outright criminalized. Even in places where assisted suicide is legal, it is restricted to those deemed sufficiently ill or disabled. If you are simply unwilling to endure an existence you did not choose, the system provides no escape beyond suffering. The illusion of free will collapses when you realize that opting out of life itself is not even truly allowed. And for those who do attempt to escape, they are met with intervention, coercion, and punishment, as if their personal suffering must be prolonged for the benefit of the system rather than for their own well-being.
Autonomy would mean the ability to choose—to stay or to leave on one's own terms. Yet that choice is systematically denied. We are told life is a gift, though no one asked for it. We are told to be grateful, despite the burdens forced upon us. We are told to find meaning in struggle, but who benefits from our suffering except the system itself? The burden of proof is placed upon the individual to justify their own pain, rather than on the system to justify its cruelty.
If life were truly free, participation would not be mandatory. If it were truly fair, survival would not be contingent on relentless labor. If we had true control, we would not be condemned for wanting out. Yet, here we are, bound by obligations we never agreed to, in a world that punishes refusal and leaves no viable alternatives.
This is not freedom. This is servitude with no escape, a game where the rules were set long before we arrived, and the only real choice we have is to keep playing or suffer the consequences of refusing to participate. And still, they ask why so many of us want to quit.
To see the chains, one must only open their eyes. And once you see them, you realize just how tightly they are fastened—how deeply they cut, how impossible they are to break. The prison of existence is one with invisible walls, but walls nonetheless. The more you struggle against them, the more resistance you face, until exhaustion sets in and you are left with the only option they permit: compliance.
And so, the system continues, sustained by forced participation, driven by necessity, and protected by a collective refusal to acknowledge its inherent cruelty. Until the day comes when the chains are broken—not just for one, but for all—this reality will remain a prison disguised as a world of opportunity.
