crickets.

no money. no job. no leads. no prospects. no fun. no work. no play.

day after dreary day I reach out to agents and casting directors for work but “crickets”. day after day I apply for jobs. “crickets”. money lower than low. in overdraft. no food. no humanity. fifty-five years old and nobody wants me. lots of skill. lots of personality. lots of energy. lots of smarts.

NO JOB.

society is made for the youth. but the youth offer up nothing but big egos, big tits, big cars, big houses, and big mouths. no substance. no heart. no soul.

CRICKETS.

my daughter has more money than me at the moment. i need a job. i need confidence. i need help.

CRICKETS.

BELL LET’S TALK CAN FUCK OFF.

FUCK BIG CORPORATIONS AND BIG BOX STORES.

the sheep follow and the sheep shop. shopping sheep. sloppy sheep.

it is raining outside. raining and gloomy. my dog at my feet.

I NEED WORK.

I NEED A JOB.

in our constant need to push humanity away and bring in automated robots we use INDEED to apply for jobs. algorithms and faceless resumes. such a society of shit. peasants and maggots. movies are unwatchable. tv shows are shit. music is shit.

POP CULTURE IS SHIT.

FAKE FOLLOWERS AND FAKE PEOPLE.

FUCKING PATHETIC.