Just rantin'

And the writer sits alone in his room, writing.

Writing after a week that started with pictures of pre-pubescent Israeli girls writing surely poetic messages of hate in thick texta to their Lebanese sisters on missiles, which will soon be launched upon the neighbouring country.

Just like putting a message in a bottle and little personally meaningful trinket, then throwing to out to sea, in the hope that one day somebody will find it and give you a ring, to let you know!!

Surely a beautiful and regrettable, unforgettable image.

Ohhhh, to those ever growing bags of regrettable unforgettable things…

Writing at the end of the week,
after a succession of job interviews in the financial sector.

Well why the hell not?

One of which required a creative copywriter, who in reality, didn’t need to be all that creative, but more so then their current one, who really couldn’t really write.

I had arced up the big creativity sell of my skills, because the headhunting recruitment agent seemed so adamant that this is what they needed. By his experience in trying to fill the role he seemed to think that most writers are not that creative, so he felt he had to empathise the creative side of the job requirement to me, much to my dismay upon the final interview.

Mmmmm… definitions of creative…

My private thoughts… Those who interviewed me, weren’t very exciting people. Yet, at least they were interesting and seemed to know some clever things about marketing. I do though like open minded, fearless, passionate and self contained, thoughtful people. The current copywriter in the job in question, definitely wasn’t that…. Oh the North Shore…

I summon the gods…. Bring on a full time big agency position.

The more business we do the better we get at it. Our instincts grow acute. We learn who we are dealing with quicker and tailor ourselves accordingly. Our beautiful society is quickly becoming more conservative on the work front and more amoral on the social front. Perhaps it’s just me joining them all…

Oh yes, that’s it.

Writing at the end of a week where mid-week, I became more closely acquainted, but not like that, with a coke addict who tried very hard to bed me on Monday night. It’s so easy to see how people get a taste for that stuff. Talk ‘bout yummy! Just, where for art thou, realism? But for all the up sides, it does seem to help ruin peoples lives and the stuff ain’t cheep…

Oh drugs…

The stories I am hearing about “ice” are shocking. I got one coming out in “User’s News”. It’s a local drugs magazine. People’s friends are dropping off like flies, well off the social psychological radar. They become psychotic to the point of non-communication and we cannot bring them back from here, without having to deal with great amounts of grief. I tried to save one and found it to be a complete waste of time. More Oh's, what do we do.

Writing at the end of a week where I can see why I’m givin’ in to allowing myself not to feel, just like all the others, yet I will keep feeling, but I can choose somehow, how… It seems after a certain number of disappointments and the like it saves a whole lot of time.

So, I join the power hungry chain of socially acceptable human relics.

So we care when we want to, but are free not to, at a whim.

Oh how tough am I.

Pretty tough, I ‘spose.

Oh, for the love of humanity, let them not steal my integrity now!!

I’ve already changed my values and belief system up to a point. All this on the quest to discover what’s out there and how it’s running. So one day I can go back and make some purpose of it all. The class difference, the differing points of view, sub-cultures, personal strengths and weaknesses, special interests and so on…

The funny ways that people be funny, in an ever increasing world of standardised human beings…

Got no time for weirdos now, just got no time….