grey like lonely

I'm so alone in my thoughts... I'm consumed by rapidly compounding worries, wishes, regrets, and hopes that are overshadowed by the enormous boulder of negativity that I carry always.
The lonliness isn't what bothers me, it's the realization that I've created this tunnel of pessimism and made it impervious to outside influences. Go ahead, try to convince me that my life isn't a complete waste; a waste of potential greatness. I know that I could change it all, but my mind is telling me that the amount of effort required wouldn't be worth the kickback, and I've got to give it to my mind on this one... because the last time I met a genuinely happy person... well shit, that's never happened.
I could quit the job I hate, where the people I work with win the prize for dumbest mammals ever (alive or dead, because really, who stuck in an underpaid mindless corporate shitty career is even alive?) But i'd likely be walking into another vortex of equally idiodic losers who have nothing better to do than to make small talk and shuffle papers while pretending their lives serve some purpose. By the way, no, I don't want to see a fucking picture of your kids or grandkids. They're not special. Nor do I care what you had for dinner last night or how your drive into the office was. I want to sit at my desk and wallow in self-hate smeared with self-pitty and watch the clock tick away the moments of my life, because when 430 comes I'll be halfway to tanked in my mind.
The only time my grey tunnel isn't so dismal is when it's got some hydration, a few cold beers and some menial conversation with the people I actually choose to be around. I guess that's the payoff, right? I suffer through a 40 hour work week in order to enjoy a couple hours a week. Yeah that sounds like a fair trade...
Is it so unreasonable to consider being unemployed for the rest of my life? 'Cause I think I could give up my worldly possessions for some more free time and a sliver of my sanity recovered. I've always wanted to see if I could survive as a nomad. Beach to beach just livin' carefree. Is this completely unrealistic? People to it, right? Are they any less content or happy than I am? Because if they're in the same state, they've got the idea. Screw working, no matter how far it gets you, you still won't be happy or satisfied. You'll work your way to death...