Bluesville

Its  hit again. that raw painic it rushes into me every time I look at the calender aand realise  that I am no longer a student. I need to find work. But what work?  I don't know. I sit here, typing not thinking clearly, the tv in the background neighbours talking out side.  I am a mess. A mess. I don't  think I acn cope christ im 50 in two years with no work for 15 not knowing wht my degree or my diploma  is useful for in a working enviornment that has no need for me. I  thought about it agian. Just walking away. finding a quiet place and end it all. After all there is no use for me. The money I get wont pay enough and what little  I recieve  90 pound a month woun't even pay for a decent present for Lyn  for her 40th birthday. Ive been derided by the fascist cunt of an inlaw again. Why didn't you do maths not English Maths is whaat the world needs, I chose english because it felt cosy and the only A I ever managed to get were in two topics english and history. I know me. I'd deliberatey  fuck it up if   I did something other than what  felt safe in thats what I am like 
I looked on the ou site and fought back the tears.  I dont  want to leave,  they at least beleived I had some value.  Nothing in this new tory world works  for people like me it never does.  they hate me as much as I hate them. 
I read that the death toll from the "difficult decison" in  social welfare cutbacks  has reached 10,000 plus. Only a trite man would use an alliteration  during a speech about why he should be re-elected and equate a death to a a  difficult decision.  Cutting the army removing trident forcing the banks  to repaay their mess, that's what shoulld of been done. Not  this. 
my anger giives me fight, but where to take the anger to?  Im a father of four with epilepsy dyslexia dyspraxia possiby  type 2  diabetes with a fatty liverand a booze addiction. who wants  too emply that? 
shit I don't even have a fashionably shaped beard. 
I hate feeling like this, not knowing what todo or where to go. Slowly sweating in nervous agitation  as I type lttter after letter word after word that shouts in my head. Least the screen is not a blur least Im not crying not now

perhaaps I should take up jogging that would be a way to go. dead through jogging nah I fucking hate jogging there is no destination  a sweaty runwalk that goes in a circle  WHAT DO I DO?  WHAT THE  FUCK DO I DO?  I don't know 

the panic riddles me she just thinks that now I have  this bit of paper I can have a door magically open for me  and someone  will say YOU  Andrew Hunt, with a diploma in creative writing and a Hons degree in English language and literature are just the type of person we've been looking for!  you hate the tories and you stand up for the less well off but that's okay, because we need you here!  Alll this degree taught me is that hard work and research pays off. That and the world we live in is a designed illusion. we teach our kids to spell correctly punish them when they can't, only to find out that the language is a lexis and garmmarians are a buch of fussygrey  pubic beardy fascists  who  got it wrong. We see creativity everwhere and in everything, yet the door only opens to creative types   if you bow to the petrician party and take it like a man and then piss on the plebs  because, lets face it they don't mattter. they are the excessive baggage we don't need
I  look at my little girl and I fear for her.   She deserves a better father a better person than me. Iam a coward a fearful shitstain that can't get out of this trap. 
I thought a move would help. I really thought a change of scenerey would force me to motivate myself. But NO!  I try and I try andfi I try to write but its all crap or thought of as crap I cant't see over this wall of low self esteem the top of it is covered with glass  its a private hell of my own ill making without a door to let me though. 
I expect I will be drinking aggain tonight. More booze to give the words to lance the boil of pus that builds which is bulit by the pus of booze in a neverending cycle of paranoid anger and frustraation.. 
Ive  just thought about the ceremony this friday. How I will wear my cap  and my robe and I will think about the men who wore them before me and how they liked to hurt me and I feel that I should be feeling happy pleased with myself content that I have achived something but I don't I feel empty lonely sad and suicidal I thought about it last night too. I thought about punching my father in law in the face repeatedly. I thought about my dead mum who would have come down to see me and my dying father who can't make it either or my sister who runs a company in the states and hates the lazy unwashed of britain  who sit on their arses all day long taking her money and spending it on booze and drugs  because they feel so hopeless they don't know what to do. I fought through tooth and claw  for this degree I wrote arguement after argument taking what I have learned about the nature  of language and the English language itself to its smallest funtion I don't want to leave the open university I don't. I feel safe there, liked there wanted. the world outside doesn't need me. 
Shit Im so tired so sick so annoyed and fractured with ideas whisperiing in and leaving before I can even formulate  them.
In truth I wanted to be a police officer, just like my father. He didn't want that, and then when the epilepsy hit I couldn't anayway. what does a fifty year old man like me do? take to the road?  Id die in a day, with no medication. 
Im fit for nothing in this shitty nation and lost to the world. I  can't even teach as my degree is a 2.2 not a 2.1 Annd I can't retake anything  as the funding has dried up. 
I swear  the goverment  want to round up all the poor into camps and create a new slave market. Cunts that they are.  Has it been worth it? 
I love my kids and my wife. 
That is all that matters, seeing my family grow. 
But...Sometimes I feel  so lonely.. johnny no mates in a city  There he is again the self pitying  fucktard. here him wail  he never shuts up. the constant drone drone drone of the moan moan moan Id smash my head into a wall if he would just fuck off and leave me alone 
Id  go on but whats the point