My Existence is Pointless Hye Jee Kim

I have no point. I'm just this little blue thing that sits on a desk, day in, day out. I'm supposed to be an eraser residue (like the little eraser dust stuff) vacuum.

I used to have a good life, on a shelf at a Chicago store. But then, one day, this strange beige claw snatched me out of my bliss. It stuck me into a bright red jail on wheels. I assume this jail had an archery range on it, as it had a big white target on it. Now my life has no point.

My days pretty much goes like this:

• It gets light, and the giant monster is resurrected. 
• The giant monster ignores me while it stumbles around doing weird monster things.
• The giant monster leaves.
• The two even bigger monsters leave.
• The computer calls a desktop meeting, which I'm not invited to (it's only for useful objects)
• I cry.
• The beautiful pen smiles at me, then walks off with the three-hole-punch, ignoring my existence.
• I cry.
• I try to hang out with the erasers, and get rejected.
• I cry.
• The giant monster comes home, and sits at the desk.
• I hope to get used.
• I don't get used.
• I cry.
• The giant monster makes the world go dark.
• The giant monster stares at a device that contains another world on its screen.
• The giant monster temporarily dies.

And it repeats.