[Young people are the voiceless face of our society. They are paraded around in clothes symbolic of common good yet these clothes are poorly made, they barely cover their shoulders and they do not last. Why are we always making opportunities for children when there are none for adults? Why do we promote creativity in the young whilst prohibiting it beyond childhood? How have we become so scornful of the things that contribute the most to our well-being and happiness? How have we collectively become so confused in our values and our thinking?] Pretext
I am hoping that fairly soon I get the joke and I can start laughing at my own life. Because being so serious is going to give me a heart-attack.
It’s Tuesday – check your calendar, I might be wrong – and there have been no storms today. Which is good because there hasn’t been one in the last month or so that I have been here and we have to have some consistency in our lives don’t we.
As it stands though, the work load has been bizarrely intense, the word bizarre is being used to describe the fact that “not working”, i.e. being unemployed, ought to be easier than having an utterly banal retail/industry vocation. Vocation is a bit strong, I mean job.
Really quickly, these words represent the things that are happening:
Paperwork, workshops, timetables, photographic documentation, applications, meetings, funding, gathering support, advertising, writing, living, defecating, urinating, eating, sleeping, walking, running, and running out of time.
Far from being bored I am extremely tired from the persistent level of pressure that I have created for myself. Having no training in project management, this is the role that has been one way of another been cast upon me. Not a problem though, I am a driven man with the capacity to handle what I have set before me. Insanity seems to be one of those things that is more of a character trait than a threat and is probably essential for the work at hand. At any rate, it has to stop.
There can be no pictures to accompany this post. Ideally there would be no words either…
My Grandma once told me that there was a period in her life where she could not find any words worth writing in her diary. However a diary being what it is, a record of day to day life, she would write, “nothing worth mentioning happened today” – or words of the same token value. I would not like to say the same but there are days when this logic could be applied.