Done and dusted

I wasn't used to being below par

The first time it happened, blamed the tester

The second time, I found faults with the test

Excuses followed: the system, the culture, the skill, the will

But soon it was the norm

I am just average now, most times

And occasionally, I am not good enough

I wasn't used to being below par
But I found I was anyway, and that I don't care

I didn't think life could be so tiring

But I was wrong too, for I am exhausted

I didn't believe I had no ambition

But I do not now dream any dreams at all

I did know I was fungible and replaceable

But now I realize I don't need me even in my own life

I asked myself what mattered

And answers started dying up

Love, friendship, happiness, purpose

Reduced to mere good-to-haves

What for, then, to wake up from the sleep?

Where to find the energy to breathe?

Why don't I stop asking silly questions?

Is it all over yet, or do I need to repeat?