My Job Application Nightmare!

It's Monday morning again, my most hated day of the week is back. Seriously, what is this day's problem? It seems its only meaning of existence is to mark the anniversary of last weeks perpetual cycle of self loathing and animosity towards the establishment that rages on till the midnight tick... An establishment whose soul purpose in life is to make me feel small and meaningless... An establishment where only the cream of the lobotomised crop may flourish and one day become the bitch dog of an organization who never cared about you anyway... Enough with the petty pop anti-establishmentarianism for now. Anyway, My inner monologue is filled with existential questions about my life and many so many "what ifs?" that forever go un-answered only to reemerge once more as a more hardcore reincarnation of itself next week.

"Not again..."

Even whilst writing this I can feel the solemn drag that is caused by travelling too close event horizon of  the ever-growing black hole of unispiration that has formed in my chest cavity where my once beating heart used to be. Worse still, it's not till I started applying for the more menial, soul destroying jobs this morning that I started to feel this way. It has spread across my day like a nasty disease. This narcissism was carried with me to the local newsagents where I decided to veto my Dr. Pepper as they didn't have the Salt & Vinegar McCoy's I was after. I had accepted this as a failure and decided I deserved nothing.

At least this gets me

This is all due to the social conditioning I have allowed my self to fall into like a booby trap in my head whereby I allow myself to be judged how much money I make. Making no money means I am worth nothing. Or to put it shorter, “I am nothing”. But part of the setup in my weekly spiral of despair comes the part where I try and fight back. “Fuck you” to the man I say. But in reality what we end up with is this:

I wish to live in a world

With no money or systems of control

Where wealth is a state of mind

Not the size of your pay roll

*Slaps forehead* I like to think of myself as some sort of beat poet, a Jack Kerouac if you will when I write this. Although I like my sentiment, sitting around and mentally writing poetry about a utopian society where I essentially get what I want for nothing has to be the laziest of my thought experiments recently. This is the problem. This is where the paradigm is split wide open. I am obviously in two minds about this working situation. However, it's obvious, till the day comes that I can support myself as fully unemployed for life/self employed I will have to experience being bottom bitch.

As I don't seem to getting much out of CV littering and applying for crap online I've decided to try and get work writing. For those who don't know, I run my own music reviews site. I really enjoy it, I get sent CD's from bands who on the most part a pretty awesome plus I get to get into local shows for free and that's all I do it for as essentially there isn't a way to make money out of it. But because I'm trying to branch out and accept that perhaps some people might be interested in what I can do I thought I may as well give it a go.

But what really pisses me off about this shit is that a lot of the time, and you get this in degrading minimal wage jobs as well, but the person on the other side must have literally have a penis and a pair of balls for brain. There I am slightly degrading myself for the sake of a few bob and there is this literal retard spouting shit at me. What the fuck, man? If only the vagina had some sort of sperm screening process, I wouldn't have to deal with this shit as people... like... Nicki Minaj will have been terminated at source and in a way that is ethical and natural. That's right, I still hate you Nicki you utter, phenomenal waste of sperm piece of shit.

Don't encourage her!

But anyway, I sent an email to some bell this morning about a writing job, and this is what I get back:

What the fuck! I'm going to take the time to admit that often my grammar isn't all that and often I'm sure neither is my spelling. I do try, honestly. But most the time I spend ranting on a crappy budget version of Office. Let's call it Noffice. But as it's free it doesn't feature a spell checker so I'm sorry if I get the occasional things wrong. We all have blindspots. This stupid piece of wasted sperm can't even do the thing he is asking me to do. Even still, what the hell is that... it doesn't even resemble a job. Fuck this ball sack. So of course I let him know.

I don't honestly expect a reply from this oxygen hoarder as i'm sure he took the high road as he is way to uber employed to be wasting his time with me. But it really sucks. I've spent fecking ages over the last few months writing covering letters and CV's to send to random companies and the doing it all over again. But none of these people even have the decency to email me back. This just falls back to my post on human decency really, but still the sight of this would make me somewhat happier:

Sweet

At least I would know that the people care enough to have actually responded to you. This brings me to another point. When you are in employment, for the most part you are just a piece of meat that clocks in, makes the company more money than they are paying you and then clocks out. A faceless addition to the corporate machine. You may be earning a salary, but where is your value? This is why applying for jobs I don't want to do for people who are assholes is almost worse of than the feeling of not having a job because at least I am in control this way.

My life right now is about trying to gain balance. You need to work in order to live in order to do the things you like. Without work in my life at the moment I feel unbalanced. It's not good for the brain and if you don't know why then please scroll up the page and read my poetry again. (or just enjoy that line)

But honestly:

They are fucked and they're fucking us!

I may be being a little blind here so please correct me if I'm wrong... society has made me very cynical recently. Is it more, or is everything around me in the modern world some sort of advertisement for some shit that I don't need. Shit that I either have or don't have that I can compare to my fellow man so that I know where my place in life is? We are forever competitors in the rat race where the finish line is death and there are no prizes for the winners. The only choice you have is when to run. Once you do you begin to completely miss all that you are passing by with your attention firmly placed on that goal.

Don't get me wrong, I honestly do want to work but God damn the man is making it difficult, which is why:

“I'm just a victim of society, bleed me dry”