“The real nightmares always begin with sunlight.”
I hate waking up to the fucking alarm clock’s searing whine of endless beep-beep-beeping, knowing the irritating noise means another day of my existence will be wasted away, like the bug you step on, by driving my Shitmobile to a worthless, stupid office clerk job. And not only is the job annoying, with America’s lamest freaks and failures calling me for some sort of housing salvation that isn’t available because there’s a two-year waiting list, it’s populated with co-workers who’re just as bad as the callers are. One person said, “You work with a lot of crackheads (meaning they’re stupid).” I sure do. An example of that is this black guy who is always asking me to help him with the date stamp, his laptop or our office’s Xerox copiers/printers. I feel the great urge to tell him that “even after all this equal opportunity and affirmative action shit you still need a white man, who is paid half of what you make, to figure it out for ya, eh?” But, since I need my job and it’s Black History Month, I don’t dare say those words out loud. Of course, if I did, I would be terminated instantly for mocking/shaming/outing a useless negro. Some of my co-crackheads are still working even though they’ve put in 35 to 45 years on the job and could retire any time. Now if that’s not outright insane I don’t know what is. So not only do I work with crackheads I work with insane people too. “God,” I think, “what fucking losers.” I am amongst the losers, and I am a loser, and I hate being a loser (nice guys DO finish last) but, what the hell, this is my place in the world and nothing is ever gonna change it. This is what life is, its meaning: trying to get through a day unscathed (which is very unlikely, of course) and then waking up to the alarm and the next day to carry on with it all once again is the meaning of life. As the days of your life pile up and you learn more and more about living and how unfair and nasty and disrespectful and what a spectacle of zero it is you do finally ‘get it’ and begin to slowly but surely figure shit out. But, by the time you do finally ‘get it’, you’re too God damned old and too fucked up to make a move, since all your previous moves ended in utter failure. So you find out what gets you fucked up the best and just stick to that for relief from the job and life. You also swallow your pride, what there is left of it, and stick to, out of basic survival, a demeaning job, always knowing unemployment is one split second away for your ass and then you’d be standing there amongst the monkeys at unemployment, begging for crumbs from a flat face that doesn’t give a shit.