I just dont care anymore
November 12th 2008 03:06
So many times in my life Ive reached this point. And you know what Ive done about it? Sweet fuck all. Ive just sat and done a whole heap of nothing, and sooner or later a useless fuckup of a job has come along, and I end up doing brainless ridiculous job, paying my way until freedom becomes more important than pride, and copped out gracefully only to start the cycle all over again.
Ooh, lets get all fucking mystical shall we? That which returns is your greatest illusion. I used to think it was money. A spolied brat snotty kid who becomes houso white trash with holes in her shoes is allowed to be a greedy little smuck. Ive always been fucking terrified about the next paycheck, the next rent payment, and the animals food. So I always just wanted money. Not to be greedy, not to be better than anyone else, but just to have the power to ensure that those I love dont HAVE TO SUFFER like this, like Im suffering now. But I dont think thats my greatest illusion anymore, as that which continues to return is my complete inability to handle this modern world.
And I do it so much better than others. For short periods. So bright and shiny and confident people I dont even know attach to me like those little fish to a shark. Everywhere I go I get told, that I glow, that I shine, that my energy is a palpable thing they can actually taste. Its like the sun dropped down, and embuied them with energy.
So, I hear a chorus...Why did you get so many animals Kleo? Why 5 horses, Why a mynah bird, Why 8 cats?
If those animals werent here right now, to look after me, I wouldnt stop when I got the razor blade just under my skin. Id keep going. And I had a cut recently, but it didnt realieve the pressure, not at all. So we'll have to go again.
So. Today. Im SO excited about this interview. Its for pharmacuetical packing, which Ive done. I can operate an Alloyd Carder, a cartoner, a bottle filler, capper, a shrink wrapper and a presser. I can pack blisters like lightening. And its not bad work. I get ready, and lock up the poor ducks, and Zenith is crying from the tiny bathroom, and I apologise, guys, its all for a good cause, all the crickets and fancy feast you can eat!
I get there and begin filling out my forms. Theres an older lady and a woman who is getting her kid to translate the english for her. I fill out my forms and the other girls go on ahead to do the activity test. I was told Id be there about 2 hours completeling the skills test, and Ive been there about 20 mins.
She takes my 6 page appo out the back, returns, and says, "Ok, thats all we need from you right now. Bye!" And gives me the enthuisiastic smile that I used to use on the counter. Its a total lie and I know it. The smile says, "Its all good!" when shes thinking..."Dont make trouble"
I should mention, the phone rang off the hook while this bimbo took a personal call, she couldnt transfer a call out back, tried 6 times and eventually cut him off (I had to physically restrain myself from ripping the phone from her hand and doing it for her) and made us all wait and stumble into each other while she organized herself. I was already thinking this place was severely unprofessional.
So Im there in front of her desk like aperson thrown overboard on that shitty short blue carpet. My eyes slide towards the other girls doing the activity tests. My magnificent voice doesnt seem to be working. Watch it, watch it, I can explode mightily at times like this.
So I stutter "Are you sure?" GOD Why do I sound so fucking desperate! Because I AM *Sob* Bimbo says, "Yeah, sure...We'll call you" I almost snap right there. Ive still got issues with Telstra (They sent me two bills. One says I owe them, the other says they owe me) so for the past few weeks Ive been biting my tongue and determined not to Snap. I manage not to. I calmly remind her I have experience in all the machinery they need (look pointedly at old lady with poor eyesight and woman who's kid is translating for her) and that if he wants someone experienced, Im the one.
Too bright, too brittle, "Thats great! Well see you!" And severe emphasis on the last few words that really mean GET OUT YOU MAKE ME NERVOUS.
I fucking well should. Im enjoying a fantasy of breaking both your skinny arms, bitch.
So I storm out, call my support, my Kman. I rant, I rave, I scream. I dont care how I look to passersby. A rather fun moment when I was screaming "I WANT TO PUT MY FIST THROUGH SOMETHING!!" as I rounded a corner and saw a bunch of people part like the red sea. Haha. They were wondering how the hell these mental patients escape, Im sure.
The train was late. I gritted my teeth and bore it. I thought well, at least I still have nude pictures left. I went for a few of those, most turned out to be dirty old men (who insisted we meet at the pub and insisted they buy me a drink - that I didnt drink) who tried to convince me that before we could draw up a contract they would have to take 'private' shots to send away for company approval. Sorry dirty old men, I have actually posed naked for publication before, and not even my hairband comes out without a contract. Morons. But even more morons are the chicks that buy into that shit. But I have one guy - who is ready to shoot as soon as he gets back from melbourne. He knows im in 'Financial Distress' and is going to t it up asap so I can get paid on the same day. Whatta guy.
So I get home. Rip off the offending business clothes. Run out and release the ducks - clean laundry floor. Get kittens out on the deck with a screaming Mama Zen. Teshan wants out. Sigh. Open side yard, let Zayfir in, lock gate...Return to house yard and release Teshan.
She wants the side yard, where Zayfir is. I tell her no. Shakir wants out, and when I go to let him out Teshan plows over top of me to get in. Barely restraining myself from screaming, I go and get a headstall to retrieve the Zayfir....And catch him without incident. Teshan and Zayfir together have disastrous ramifications.
Get back up to house. Have to wash kitten blankets...They also want food. Now the ducks want food too. Shit, Im out of grain...And Bink is screaming. Jesus. Why dont I just lay down, and you guys can tear me open? Wouldnt that be a lot faster?
So. Ive gotta think outside the box now. I just dont give a good goddamn holy fuck about the working world - I never have and I never will - but Im shying away from it like a 2 year old filly. Whatever purpose you have for me YOU FUCKING BASTARDS UPSTAIRS you can do it your goddamn self. Im on strike until you show me some of the respect I deserve for continously, and without question, taking in your charges. I do everything Im told to do, and all I get for it is another bend over ass fucking. NO MORE!! I. JUST. DONT. CARE. ANYMORE.
Hatred and agression and rage they billow inside me and I can FEEL them, so surely, the power they give me. Do something else, something else...Well. I could become a professional mugger. Looking the way I do I could lure the richest of criminals into the darkest of alleys. And they carry drugs as well as cash. But really, when your most fervant dream is to become a top class assassin, you cant lower yourself with the petty criminals...But maybe its a good spot to start.
And after hanging the blankets on the line, I came in to a missed call. I think it was the photographer. Oh Lord. Thats all I need. Knowing my luck he's doing a $5000 shoot today and I fucking missed it.
Why do we blog? Huh? To vent, I believe. To go out and scream in a forest of uncaring trees that which has bothered us, fucked us up. It doesnt matter if anyone reads it. It doesnt matter if anyone understands it. It matters that you can say it, and you dont have that hollow cowardly feeling of sticking it in your diary and giggling away that no one knows how fucked up you are.
Well, now you all know how fucked up I am.
Oh! Oh! And hows this? On my way home, I got asked for spare change! Can you believe that? Why, why do they always pick me? Its always methey pick out of acrowd to ask - "You should smile dear, a pretty girl should always smile" (says who, asshole?) "Excuse me miss, do you know where Bourke st is?" (Leave me the fuck alone and ask the cunt with the map) "Hey love, got fiddy cent for a bread roll?" (not for you, fucking dough ball. if youre gonna beg for food money, it literally pays to look starving) and today, "scuse me miss, can ya spare me a few dollars?" Aint got dollars or even cents to spare buddy......
Good news is I found ashort cut home from the train station. If thats my silver lining, as usual, Id rather have the cloud. And the rain and the wind and the thunder and the lightening....Make her face as black as my mood, and let the tears pour from the sky.
Ooh, lets get all fucking mystical shall we? That which returns is your greatest illusion. I used to think it was money. A spolied brat snotty kid who becomes houso white trash with holes in her shoes is allowed to be a greedy little smuck. Ive always been fucking terrified about the next paycheck, the next rent payment, and the animals food. So I always just wanted money. Not to be greedy, not to be better than anyone else, but just to have the power to ensure that those I love dont HAVE TO SUFFER like this, like Im suffering now. But I dont think thats my greatest illusion anymore, as that which continues to return is my complete inability to handle this modern world.
And I do it so much better than others. For short periods. So bright and shiny and confident people I dont even know attach to me like those little fish to a shark. Everywhere I go I get told, that I glow, that I shine, that my energy is a palpable thing they can actually taste. Its like the sun dropped down, and embuied them with energy.
So, I hear a chorus...Why did you get so many animals Kleo? Why 5 horses, Why a mynah bird, Why 8 cats?
If those animals werent here right now, to look after me, I wouldnt stop when I got the razor blade just under my skin. Id keep going. And I had a cut recently, but it didnt realieve the pressure, not at all. So we'll have to go again.
So. Today. Im SO excited about this interview. Its for pharmacuetical packing, which Ive done. I can operate an Alloyd Carder, a cartoner, a bottle filler, capper, a shrink wrapper and a presser. I can pack blisters like lightening. And its not bad work. I get ready, and lock up the poor ducks, and Zenith is crying from the tiny bathroom, and I apologise, guys, its all for a good cause, all the crickets and fancy feast you can eat!
I get there and begin filling out my forms. Theres an older lady and a woman who is getting her kid to translate the english for her. I fill out my forms and the other girls go on ahead to do the activity test. I was told Id be there about 2 hours completeling the skills test, and Ive been there about 20 mins.
She takes my 6 page appo out the back, returns, and says, "Ok, thats all we need from you right now. Bye!" And gives me the enthuisiastic smile that I used to use on the counter. Its a total lie and I know it. The smile says, "Its all good!" when shes thinking..."Dont make trouble"
I should mention, the phone rang off the hook while this bimbo took a personal call, she couldnt transfer a call out back, tried 6 times and eventually cut him off (I had to physically restrain myself from ripping the phone from her hand and doing it for her) and made us all wait and stumble into each other while she organized herself. I was already thinking this place was severely unprofessional.
So Im there in front of her desk like aperson thrown overboard on that shitty short blue carpet. My eyes slide towards the other girls doing the activity tests. My magnificent voice doesnt seem to be working. Watch it, watch it, I can explode mightily at times like this.
So I stutter "Are you sure?" GOD Why do I sound so fucking desperate! Because I AM *Sob* Bimbo says, "Yeah, sure...We'll call you" I almost snap right there. Ive still got issues with Telstra (They sent me two bills. One says I owe them, the other says they owe me) so for the past few weeks Ive been biting my tongue and determined not to Snap. I manage not to. I calmly remind her I have experience in all the machinery they need (look pointedly at old lady with poor eyesight and woman who's kid is translating for her) and that if he wants someone experienced, Im the one.
Too bright, too brittle, "Thats great! Well see you!" And severe emphasis on the last few words that really mean GET OUT YOU MAKE ME NERVOUS.
I fucking well should. Im enjoying a fantasy of breaking both your skinny arms, bitch.
So I storm out, call my support, my Kman. I rant, I rave, I scream. I dont care how I look to passersby. A rather fun moment when I was screaming "I WANT TO PUT MY FIST THROUGH SOMETHING!!" as I rounded a corner and saw a bunch of people part like the red sea. Haha. They were wondering how the hell these mental patients escape, Im sure.
The train was late. I gritted my teeth and bore it. I thought well, at least I still have nude pictures left. I went for a few of those, most turned out to be dirty old men (who insisted we meet at the pub and insisted they buy me a drink - that I didnt drink) who tried to convince me that before we could draw up a contract they would have to take 'private' shots to send away for company approval. Sorry dirty old men, I have actually posed naked for publication before, and not even my hairband comes out without a contract. Morons. But even more morons are the chicks that buy into that shit. But I have one guy - who is ready to shoot as soon as he gets back from melbourne. He knows im in 'Financial Distress' and is going to t it up asap so I can get paid on the same day. Whatta guy.
So I get home. Rip off the offending business clothes. Run out and release the ducks - clean laundry floor. Get kittens out on the deck with a screaming Mama Zen. Teshan wants out. Sigh. Open side yard, let Zayfir in, lock gate...Return to house yard and release Teshan.
She wants the side yard, where Zayfir is. I tell her no. Shakir wants out, and when I go to let him out Teshan plows over top of me to get in. Barely restraining myself from screaming, I go and get a headstall to retrieve the Zayfir....And catch him without incident. Teshan and Zayfir together have disastrous ramifications.
Get back up to house. Have to wash kitten blankets...They also want food. Now the ducks want food too. Shit, Im out of grain...And Bink is screaming. Jesus. Why dont I just lay down, and you guys can tear me open? Wouldnt that be a lot faster?
So. Ive gotta think outside the box now. I just dont give a good goddamn holy fuck about the working world - I never have and I never will - but Im shying away from it like a 2 year old filly. Whatever purpose you have for me YOU FUCKING BASTARDS UPSTAIRS you can do it your goddamn self. Im on strike until you show me some of the respect I deserve for continously, and without question, taking in your charges. I do everything Im told to do, and all I get for it is another bend over ass fucking. NO MORE!! I. JUST. DONT. CARE. ANYMORE.
Hatred and agression and rage they billow inside me and I can FEEL them, so surely, the power they give me. Do something else, something else...Well. I could become a professional mugger. Looking the way I do I could lure the richest of criminals into the darkest of alleys. And they carry drugs as well as cash. But really, when your most fervant dream is to become a top class assassin, you cant lower yourself with the petty criminals...But maybe its a good spot to start.
And after hanging the blankets on the line, I came in to a missed call. I think it was the photographer. Oh Lord. Thats all I need. Knowing my luck he's doing a $5000 shoot today and I fucking missed it.
Why do we blog? Huh? To vent, I believe. To go out and scream in a forest of uncaring trees that which has bothered us, fucked us up. It doesnt matter if anyone reads it. It doesnt matter if anyone understands it. It matters that you can say it, and you dont have that hollow cowardly feeling of sticking it in your diary and giggling away that no one knows how fucked up you are.
Well, now you all know how fucked up I am.
Oh! Oh! And hows this? On my way home, I got asked for spare change! Can you believe that? Why, why do they always pick me? Its always methey pick out of acrowd to ask - "You should smile dear, a pretty girl should always smile" (says who, asshole?) "Excuse me miss, do you know where Bourke st is?" (Leave me the fuck alone and ask the cunt with the map) "Hey love, got fiddy cent for a bread roll?" (not for you, fucking dough ball. if youre gonna beg for food money, it literally pays to look starving) and today, "scuse me miss, can ya spare me a few dollars?" Aint got dollars or even cents to spare buddy......
Good news is I found ashort cut home from the train station. If thats my silver lining, as usual, Id rather have the cloud. And the rain and the wind and the thunder and the lightening....Make her face as black as my mood, and let the tears pour from the sky.
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