How do you find inspiration, or at the very least a reason to endure, in this cage we live in.?

long have i been aware of the chains which hold and dictate the course of my life, there was a time though when words were my salvation, from the tyranny of order. the world made sense and i was pionate when i put words down on paper, they allowed me to mock the society in which i born and forget the laws and bask in the beauty of literature. but now the words have lost their novelty they no longer feel like a reason to live and i find myself writing the same story with the same morals always preching the evilness of civility, no longer can i survive on words alone i need something tangible and true to live for. new experience is all too rare and the routine pains me everyday. Fake smiles and robotic conversations cannot appease the appetite which i have acquired. i am so aware of my insignifigance when i stand amongst the hoardes i only want to do some thing that is worthwhile i don't want to waste my temporary conciousness which i have received from the universe (a god if you will). all the tasks which society has me doing are mere distractions from my insignifigance and i listen to our self righteous leaders and laugh. at work i accomplish nothing except to perpetuate the evil of a nation and corporation. i thirst to live but i'm trapped in 1984