Life.
I hate money. I mean really fucking hate it.
Oh sure, affluence is better than poverty - if only for financial reasons, haha.
One of the things about being 'grown up' is the fact that things have to be about money to have a point. What you do with your day has to generate money. If it doesn't generate money or isn't linked to sprogging and therefore furthering this thing we call humanity, it's frowned upon. Think about it. When you were little, you were encouraged to draw or make mud pies or whatever took your fancy - because it's fun. No one cared if you were good at it or not or whether it was productively worthwhile... But when you get to about 13 or 14, suddenly everything has to have a point. If you want to wank around with art or music or philosophy then you'd better be bloody good at it.
I mean, I understand that an individual needs to be able to support themselves within society in some way. I get it. I just... I don't know. I just hate the mindset that creeps in, the eventual acceptance of money = worth.
(Is the art good? I dunno - can you make a profit on it?)
Yep, I fully admit, I'm bitching because I work part time so that I might chase dreams I hope will eventually make money... Or to put it another way I'm a lazy artistic wench who can't bear to do a hard day's mundane work. Whatever.
I hate that I have money and yet I don't. I hate the huge unbridgeable gulf between saving up a couple of hundred quid for a holiday in six month's time and the idea of trying to scrape together a deposit for somewhere to live - or even standard rent.
I hate the fact that my joy at my brother saying he will pay me £100 for the first draft of the script is completely fucked by the realisation of how far that £100 will get me... and how far in a few months I will need it to get me.
The house sale will give my father 1m when all is said and done. Enough for a small place for my parents, a holiday, and an 'investment' property for my brother. I have to make my own plans.
I am (if you can get it) completely understanding and un-bitter about this, and mildly fucking panicking whilst petrified. My parents do not owe me anything in any way and I'm damned if I'm gonna ask for a slice of the cash that should finally solve their problems for them. But this leaves me with two months and counting before the bottom falls out of my little world.
My brother has graciously said that I can tag along with him as he finds a wrecked flat, fixes it up and moves on to the next. This is extremely kind of him, but it does still call into question what the hell I'll be doing in this place which could be anything from quite habitable to living out of a builder's skip for the next year.
All right, yes, I agree, in many ways I'm going nuts over nothing. I wanted a change, I've wanted this house sale, this moving on and moving out for two years at least.
So maybe I'll keep my job at the bookshop, maybe I won't. There are other jobs. So maybe I'll live in a building site, maybe I won't. Who cares? I know, I know. My neurons are freaking because, well, we have no position.
I have no money, no worth, no stash, nothing of use and nothing to fall back on. I have nothing fucking useful to offer to any of this and no sodding way to control, change, or even mildly influence the process should I dislike it. And yes, it's my own fucking fault - I know, I sodding know, and I don't expect anyone to do anything about it... I just.... I just would like to state for the record that it really fucking sucks. And that if anyone I know ever sprogs they should pray that their offspring is mundane and prosaic with a strong work ethic, a head for figures and no artistic leanings, because they'll be so much happier and cause far fewer problems that way.
fuck.
I'm always neither one thing nor the other. In theory intelligent, but rarely practical. Good education, but apparently unemployable. Dream chasing, but as yet unforfilling. Unstable, but not outright insane. Capable, but somehow lacking.... Why the hell didn't I commit myself that time? Then no one would expect anything of me and it wouldn't bloody matter. feh.
Oh sure, affluence is better than poverty - if only for financial reasons, haha.
One of the things about being 'grown up' is the fact that things have to be about money to have a point. What you do with your day has to generate money. If it doesn't generate money or isn't linked to sprogging and therefore furthering this thing we call humanity, it's frowned upon. Think about it. When you were little, you were encouraged to draw or make mud pies or whatever took your fancy - because it's fun. No one cared if you were good at it or not or whether it was productively worthwhile... But when you get to about 13 or 14, suddenly everything has to have a point. If you want to wank around with art or music or philosophy then you'd better be bloody good at it.
I mean, I understand that an individual needs to be able to support themselves within society in some way. I get it. I just... I don't know. I just hate the mindset that creeps in, the eventual acceptance of money = worth.
(Is the art good? I dunno - can you make a profit on it?)
Yep, I fully admit, I'm bitching because I work part time so that I might chase dreams I hope will eventually make money... Or to put it another way I'm a lazy artistic wench who can't bear to do a hard day's mundane work. Whatever.
I hate that I have money and yet I don't. I hate the huge unbridgeable gulf between saving up a couple of hundred quid for a holiday in six month's time and the idea of trying to scrape together a deposit for somewhere to live - or even standard rent.
I hate the fact that my joy at my brother saying he will pay me £100 for the first draft of the script is completely fucked by the realisation of how far that £100 will get me... and how far in a few months I will need it to get me.
The house sale will give my father 1m when all is said and done. Enough for a small place for my parents, a holiday, and an 'investment' property for my brother. I have to make my own plans.
I am (if you can get it) completely understanding and un-bitter about this, and mildly fucking panicking whilst petrified. My parents do not owe me anything in any way and I'm damned if I'm gonna ask for a slice of the cash that should finally solve their problems for them. But this leaves me with two months and counting before the bottom falls out of my little world.
My brother has graciously said that I can tag along with him as he finds a wrecked flat, fixes it up and moves on to the next. This is extremely kind of him, but it does still call into question what the hell I'll be doing in this place which could be anything from quite habitable to living out of a builder's skip for the next year.
All right, yes, I agree, in many ways I'm going nuts over nothing. I wanted a change, I've wanted this house sale, this moving on and moving out for two years at least.
So maybe I'll keep my job at the bookshop, maybe I won't. There are other jobs. So maybe I'll live in a building site, maybe I won't. Who cares? I know, I know. My neurons are freaking because, well, we have no position.
I have no money, no worth, no stash, nothing of use and nothing to fall back on. I have nothing fucking useful to offer to any of this and no sodding way to control, change, or even mildly influence the process should I dislike it. And yes, it's my own fucking fault - I know, I sodding know, and I don't expect anyone to do anything about it... I just.... I just would like to state for the record that it really fucking sucks. And that if anyone I know ever sprogs they should pray that their offspring is mundane and prosaic with a strong work ethic, a head for figures and no artistic leanings, because they'll be so much happier and cause far fewer problems that way.
fuck.
I'm always neither one thing nor the other. In theory intelligent, but rarely practical. Good education, but apparently unemployable. Dream chasing, but as yet unforfilling. Unstable, but not outright insane. Capable, but somehow lacking.... Why the hell didn't I commit myself that time? Then no one would expect anything of me and it wouldn't bloody matter. feh.