Office Is Trash, OnlyFans Is Evil: Life at the Digital Bottom

Morning. The alarm screams like it’s telling you: “Get up, slave, and just die already!”

9:15 — Zoom. 12:00 — some damn report. 15:00 — a corporate face with balloons and a plastic cake.

You’re in the office. The system eats your time, coffee, and the scraps of your self-esteem — all on schedule.

You pull on a shirt (or a hoodie, if the office pretends to be young). You drag yourself through the subway, the minibus, or on a scooter to a place where the AC is dead and the water cooler is the local old lady at the entrance.

You arrive. You sit. You eat your daily serving of meaninglessness.

Your job is spreadsheets, emails, dumb calls, and showboating.

Your soul turned into Excel long ago, fried from overheating.

One day, you open Instagram and you see her.

A girl with a huge smile, wearing almost nothing, the caption: “Thanks for the support, new month — new goal!”

You gulp down cold coffee, thinking: “She makes in a day what I won’t get as a yearly bonus — if I don’t get fired first.”

In the evening, you google: “How to start OnlyFans?”

You’re not crazy. You’re just sick of being a clown in a tie.

And now you wonder: isn’t it more honest to undress than to pretend to be busy?

Office — you sell eight hours of your life to strangers for pennies, just to buy yourself a crumb of time.

OnlyFans — you sell yourself directly, no dumb bosses or KPIs.

Office — coffee, reports, and “let’s discuss this at the meeting.”

OnlyFans — pics, donations, and “send more, your boobs are awesome.”

This is where the mess begins.

Your principles are punching your debts in the face.

One yells: “How can you?”

The other whispers: “You already can — you humiliate yourself on calls.”

You remember your parents. What will mom say? She’s already whining about why you’re not at a bank. Can it get any worse?

You realize: this isn’t about “good” or “bad.” It’s about which way you choose to endure lack of freedom.

In the office, you sell your time; on OnlyFans, your body. You pay everywhere: with burnout, anxiety, and other people’s opinions.

There’s no right choice.

Chose the office — don’t lie that you’re “normal.”

Chose OnlyFans — don’t lie that you’re “free.”

You’re still a person just trying not to lose your mind in a country where the whole economy has already gone insane.

P.S.

If you think being an adult means looking for a job where you don’t want to die,
— congratulations.
That’s reality.