You will never be a practicing lawyer. You have no clients, you have no LLC, you have no trials. You are a homosexual man twisted by trust funds and bad schools into a crude mockery of Jews' perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish experience behind closed doors.
Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even non-practicing lawyers who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your sentence structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy take your legal advice, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your rotted, moldy diploma.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with an obituary marked with your real job, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a practicing lawyer isn't buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a history that is unmistakably of a non-practicing lawyer's. This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.