‘Working Class Hero’ – John Lennon
I needed the money. That’s the simple explanation.
I worked at the lorry yard today. I did a half day till 12pm. But I do hate it there. I will continue to work there for the moment, but now more than ever I am looking for another job – even if it’s in a factory, because it’d be more money than the yard and probably less work too. Certainly more dignity.
My current life is very upsetting and not at all creative, inspiring, fulfilling or rewarding. I’m not used to that. I haven’t been for almost 2 years. However ‘small’ my own problems might seem, I don’t think anyone realises I am undergoing a grave and disturbing psychological crisis. I don’t care how pathetic it all sounds or how crap I’ve been acting lately; I am having to adjust to a great deal right now. I’m facing a new more enclosed and unproductive life and it frightens the hell out of me. I feel lost. I don’t know who I am anymore and I don’t have a clue what the point of anything I’ve so far achieved has been.
‘Cry, Baby, Cry’ – The Beatles
I didn’t get the Museum job. They wrote to me this morning, telling me that my hopes had all fallen into a bucket of dogshit (I’m paraphrasing).
I’ve got 5 A-levels, 6 O-levels and 2 CSE’s, and I can’t even manage a fucking Museum Steward/Attendant job.
WHAT HOPE HAVE I GOT, FOR FUCK’S SAKE?!
Do I think the world owes me a living?
Well, yes – OF COURSE IT FUCKING DOES!
If not, then what kind of world have we made?!
I just need a sign. One sign of hope and optimism that tells me I’m worth something; a sign that tells me that there IS some point to my being alive.
I’m going down again.
Down, down, down.
My situation now terrifies me. I feel like I’ve come to a point of no return. I am having to do a job I hate and I feel utterly unsupported by my ‘parents’. I want to move away, but can’t afford to. I obviously have no prospects there right now. I have no true friends close by; drinking buddies, yes, but no moral support, no-one to fire me up a bit. I have no-one special to turn to. I have no one to love and no one to love me, and – worst of all – I have no hope, no faith and nothing to look forward to.
All I have is tears.
‘Going Down’ – Lou Reed
Jonny Badcock got back in touch. He’s also very eager to not vegetate and would like us both to find a way of getting things moving again, despite his well-paid factory job. He seems to want us to try and do something with my FRANKENSTEIN play in the autumn. It seems like a fine proposition and it would be nice to do something with it. I’m certainly thinking on it.
Heigh-ho. See you again after a day’s drudgery, dear diary.
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Next time: ‘Who Remains?’