This is the blog for the many people, including me, who aren’t too sure about capitalism or job seeking for that matter. I will be feminist and confused, loving and self-contradictory. I am an out of work Cambridge grad from a ‘non-traditional’ background. Having accessed the most elite education available, I am here wallowing, bemoaning the clapped out institutions I have to choose to engage and disengage with in order to gain generally happy life.
Not an empty vessel.
Not transparent.
Not soft or minimal or mood less.
Or hard or glittering or one mood.
I am full and whole and changing.
I have a voice.
I am full.
Touch me, I am not ashes, cash or a
fall.
I am not grace or chaste or care or
lost but I am it all.
You think
And
Its
Unpleasant
So
You seek
A Dumbing method
There are many in the bow
Over 100 quivers
Named xyz
Named
After ex-lovers.
I chose you
And your name became
So cruel
To think of.
And what if my dreams are simple
and/or
not like other people’s dreams,
or worse, too much the same?
Is a dream a dream if it is
obtainable?
And what if
I can predict
that when I achieve a dream I’ll only
be grateful for a few weeks,
or even days before a new craze
is in me?
The hills and downs of my ravines could scare me to death
or worse, to desire it -the end that is-
But.
I don’t take straight lines in many ways I go rounds and round meandering,
stagnating even in oxbow lakes:
But, in the mean time, how do I wait?
what to do in the mean time
what to do to make the mean time,
kinder for me, on me,
what to do but dream, and dream?
My body knows how to be
Its in my genes
It tells me
I am this tall
I am this dark and light
I am this hair
I am that there
This average
This rare
I am you
Do not question my genius
And it is true it is not fair-
Many died before their
first breath and yet-
Look at you! There! Born, bodied,breathing,
crying out for care.
I wont forsake you
The miracles that make you,
I will listen body when you speak.
Anticapitalist Jobseeker 