Help Wanted

9 05 2013

*Clears throat*

*Breathes out*

*Looks over right shoulder*

*Stares at nothing*

*Fiddles with a pen lid with left hand*

Welcome to my life the last few nights. Fun, huh?

Well how else do you expect me to get through life?

With constant headaches and a bigger (than a month ago) belly, I’m amazed they haven’t noticed yet.

I’ve kind of told my sister what the deal is, but that’s as far as it’s gone yet. I mean, how are we supposed to make a decent presentation in 20 minute when we have to talk about 12-15 different things?

Everything I read tells me we were right in the first place, but the important people (the ones marking the damned thing) say ‘nu-uh, too short’ and effectively hand us quadruple the work in less time.

We’ve all got a line that shouldn’t be crossed, right? Well, I’ve found mine. And it’s just been proven again.

I should be working on it now, but f**k it. It’ll mean nothing anyway.

Especially when I’m too offensive and critical and judgemental yet what I’ve been given to read rips blonde newsreaders a proverbial ‘new one’.

It was nice to have a chat with Yoda though. But I’m not a Star Wars fan really, so I don’t know the right etiquette.

Should I go next week? Hmm, maybe; see how I feel (i.e. – no).

It must be dire though, my drugs have stopped working.

I can’t remember the time unless I check five times in quick succession.

Dad seems to think that people with depression or anxiety ‘should get up and move on’; says he with a house, job, loving wife and family.

I’d try something else, but he’d be all like ‘oh give it here, you’re doing it wrong’.



How do I ask? Do I just walk up and say it? Do I wait till we next see each other?

What do I say more to the point? I never got that bit. It happens in the movies a fair bit, but does it happen in reality or was I deprived of that talk?

One day it was rumours, the next it was fruition, but I never got the bit in the middle.

Why is it not possible to make a living out of the things I could do for hours and not get bored with? Or is it?

No. It’s not possible. Why? Because it’s me we’re talking about here. The most unlucky lucky sod you’ll ever come across on the face of this earth.

Wow, look at that; 429 words.

Nearly time to go. I don’t want them growing suspicious of me. Not yet.

Good thing I took those drama classes. They’re finally paying off in Hindsight.

Huh. I typed hindsight with a capital. Shows how indebted I am to them.

Have you ever said a word so many times over and over that it loses all meaning? I have.

This was all just a rush of blood to the head. No, wait. That was just the album.

99% and charging; I best unplug it and get ready to go.


One final thought. Read this: J-E-S-U-S-I-S-N-O-W-H-E-R-E.

Now read it again. Do you see it? I do.

And I’m off.




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