Running out of time but I still feel oddly lazy

 Get home from work Put on the YouTube, get 2 hour of sleep (before I officially go to sleep); wake up and take the dog for an hour-long walk; Go to sleep; Wake up and work from 8-5 and only earn only 330 usd; These are the major points of my life right now, the bullet points, the outline in my daily essay /I call life. 

But there's a problem: this whole life story is shot through with pain and anxiety. It all reeks of insecurity and madness that stem from a mind and body never truly at ease. I don't ever get out, don't ever see anyone outside of work... It's been an insane schedule. Now the boss is talking about working Sundays too. What do I do in this mad situation? I don't like my boss, but I'm bound by honor to work for him. Also there's a deep need to inure myself against the raging terror of the real world. Having not had a father is the greatest catalyst for this insistence on work.

The dreams I have when I sleep so early are tense and they go deep into the murky territories of the mind. The reptiles of the mind are there too. The night before last, I dreamed of this group of bikers coming after me on account of a girlfriend I stole, or attempted to steal (out of desperation), from one Kyle Carter. He hadn't banked on the fact that someone had seen through his misogynistic view of women. He just expected to have fresh meat on his doorstep and used the frailty of his mark to get it. I confronted him for the first time. He blew a gasket. Now he's back in my dreams, along with other less savory personages. 

So seeing through narcissists is my game. I call it handling a pit of snakes. These are bad people. They drive the world, and since hate is a stronger motive than passion, it really takes a lot to meet their malice and supersede it with something nobler. These are the democrats, the radical left-wingers, but not only. As we move closer to the loss of all conscience, there are people who just want to make a hell of a lot of money and be raised up in the public eye. These are the ones who have no light in their eyes. They're motivated by demons. They're motivated by rage and insecurity. 

All of this makes us sharper and moves us deeper into God's will. Besides, no one is above their mother. That's also why I work so hard. My mother works manually, like a peasant. She's frowned upon as a person of mean understanding. So is it not fitting then that I am on the same level as her?  It seems philosophic considerations outweigh practicality in my life... As usual.