Unemployed in to madness #444days

There is this evolving Twitter thread where I write about my long-term unemployment

Just in case Twitter destroys it. I back up some of my Tweets here.

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Unemployed Into Madness An attempt to work through my #unemployment in #poetry form in a slow evolving thread. #amwriting #444days

at first there is the peace of liberty of both wealth and time a wealth of both worlds that opens opportunity as well as character
there is no dread of existence or dread of mistake there is no fear of friends or family there is a desire to use time to value it
at first it feels deserved like a holiday a time-out of this rat-race only slowly after declination and declination to your applications
you begin to feel again dread and fear of existence of standing still for too long of being forgotten and becoming a burden
you respond with a new effort a new design a new attempt a course a lecture maybe an investment yet a return on your improvement as a worker
has yet to come so you begin to pass the time save where you can spend where you must yet the feeling of failure sets in
with each declination a litte bitterer with each month less sure of yourself each day success eludes pleasure and pride are long in the past
then when the world stands still for you and for the rest of humanity it keeps turning you begin to realize that your complaints are quaint
while nations tumble freedoms get curtailed and children go hungry all I can do is despair for I am stuck in a prison of unemployment
so now I am screaming at the world may I be called crazy may we all be called crazy just because we want a better world unchained
ts a distraction, money its a distraction of what is happening it is the carrot on a stick that you never truly reach what is happening?
really what is happening? have we lost our way? forgotten our humanity? out of fear? that there is not enough for all of us?
you stand abandoned and forgotten you stand alone friends and family though caring and close their wisdom of a chance in future I disbelief
it is the wound that can not be healed by time it is the pain that can only be cured by change a change in pace, in routine and in status
next to my personal ruins lies a burning world torn apart by fear and hate I wish not to participate yet I have my fear and I have my anger
there was a time where I could turn them in to words shape them in to images ban them on paper and celluloid I wish to return to that state
I wish states would return to their core to protect and support their citizens to cherish life and freedom and progress ahead of profit
as the world turns on the spot between left and right I turn in my bed sleepless I write sleepless I share as peace will come sleep will too
my stance is defense my character is pretense once outside where I do not belong for money makes you part and lack of it breaks you apart
declined again I start to believe it myself so I no longer wonder how could you employ a looser not welcome not wanted not needed
the value of my life implied by employment the loss is debt and my sanity
we cherish our riches more than our humanity we care more about shareholders than people threatened by death despair, hunger and war
how shall I take pride in my existence when I live in a world where salary is worth more than poetry & a holiday snapshot is more than art
avoiding tax is getting you elected president feeding the hungry thrown in jail and helping people who are drowning is a crime then we lost
lost far earlier in life once decided to followed the path laid out to me by society should have stepped away should have found another way
what helps a prisoner more than cries for his wasted life go out enjoy it, live it while you can ..afford it because my prison is capitalism
Do I live in poverty? No! Do I live in danger? No! Do I live a life? No! Having a life living a life the difference is unique and the same for all
slavery by another name be it industrial incarceration be it social pressure to wage-slavery I descend in to madness and decide not to die
when you feel pain for no reason
I become used to not working I fear I am loosing not only my mind but with every day another chance to change my fate to a better fortune
the beggar on the street for him I am a wealthy man the rich banker or star for him I am just a lazy social vermine let us abolish that
when everything is about how much money you earn you spend you cost you owe you are you need when this is everything I wish it to end
I am tired live is no longer something to enjoy actually it has never been it is something to endure for what? for whom? just myself?
people tell me to build my own dreams stay true to yourself and all that who will pay for that? who will accept me for that? and who cares?
“The sadness that never leveve you” #unemployedintomadness #444days #penandtwitter
“And the simple happiness of fluent people Is starting to vex me” #amwriting #444days #penandtwitter #unemployedintoMadness
then there is the glimmer of hope a phone call an email an invitation now the fear sets in that the reason for my state is actually myself
then there is the glimmer of hope a phone call an email an invitation now the fear sets in that the reason for my state is actually myself
unemployment after a while becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy the longer you were without work the less likely someone will employ you
I have to be grateful for a chance at the same time manage my thoughts of inadequacy while still pretending to be a worthy human too much?
2015, that was the year where I was last employed then there are the people who say for that long? how come? how should I know the truth?
replies you get yet declinations usually don’t contain explanations beyond the point that they found someone more fitting for the role
so it has become a constant in my life that for work and friendship and love there is always someone more fitting for that role than me
I am not a social person yet I know loneliness by degrees wish not to be alone until the end of life wish not to share just out of need
complacent? no but everything that would improve my chances on a so called job-market costs money French lessons, money, SAP course, money
poverty is defined by your inability to improve your situation by anything else than selling yourself short
what I learned and did now a program does what I learned not to do to dream and question is what doesn’t sell
they fill your head with dreams of more in life of achievements of greatness and then you get beaten into being happy for having a life
“I remember a time of plans” #amwriting #444days #unemployedintomadness #penandtwitter
alte Wörter, mit alter Weisheit mit Blut befleckte Schriftzeichen welche die Wörter für die sie stehen verhöhnen
I do not wish to be famous or rich my desire is to be an artist but instead of chasing ideas and thoughts I keep running for a paycheck
I was once looking for freedom in this world wouldn’t want to hear of the prison it shapes now, in stripes and chains I see the bars
It is late at night alone When you realize that your life Has become pretend Pretend to want it Pretend to enjoy it Pretend to have a future
In the early hours When the sounds of silence Are deafening enough For you to shield your ears What you don’t hear and yet feel Is dispare
what happens is that you become a criminal by default, because you are unemployed because you are on social welfare, the assumption is that.
they give you barely enough to survive and are expecting you to improve I feel caged, forgotten and set aside prove your worth, every day
my crime is poverty my crime isn’t laziness it is pride pride in my achievements and proud enough to decline wage-slavery
gnorance is bliss that is why the last two weeks I had laughed and crafted and created, but now the realization of my madness crushes me
two years… it has been two years since I last held a job, I can’t even breathe this number at the moment, oh dear god I would like to work
to be broke breaks you to be broken ills you it is the dept of the world on the smallest shoulders that carry nothing but dread
those who have the littlest in this world owe the greatest explanation those ekeing out a living how come this world doesn’t work for you?
two years and then you are no longer valid two year and then you are trapped all it needs is two years and you lost your life no chance
then you call, you overcome your anger your fear you realize that you, no longer count for two years ago last you worked
what I never learned is to sell myself to make myself seem more valuable than I am what I never learned is to actually appreciate my value
“by loosing all hope I have lost all will” #amwriting #poetry #unemployement #444days #unemployedintomadness
I can’t sleep I can’t cry I can’t scream I can’t die All avenues blocked All options mocked All that is me forgot
I wish not to be For the moment I can pretend It’s just geographically Let me start a new Let me make the same Mistakes someplace else
When even reading doesn’t distract you When writing feels hollow When you realize that all you did Was wrong Wrong when looking back
Is this regret? Yes, that I didn’t surrender sooner? No! My regret is that I started fighting for what matters so late in my life.
When the clock strikes five and the birds begin to chirp, that is the time I fall asleep. I feel more at calm now, thanks digital wall.
there is no easy answer there is no easy question there is no easy solution there is no easy way out people make it easy simply, my mistake
Basically, 2 years ago I wrote my own recommendation letter because my boss was too lazy to-do it he signed it Since them I am unemployable
Questions about where I do want to go in live drive me crazy/crazier since the only answer I have is out of unemployment and in to a life.
Questions on why I don’t have a job are it seems easily answered, I am not good enough, not worth enough, not human enough.
Defending all your life choices while you are doubting any last one of them, does not only break you heart but your mind as well.
careers? what the fuck is that shit about? I want a life, I always only wanted to work to make my life next to it more meaningful.
and that is basically because we have #shittyjobs more than we have meaningful ones, hence I tried to find pleasure in art in creation
let my work finance my own creation that makes sense doesn’t it? that is some where to go? but not for a career, maybe for a life
but how to pay for that life without the career? ah the crux is I was never needed no human truly is needed we are kind of a waste
still we hope and I did for a while no longer all I have left is anger at the world anger at myself anger at choice anger at this prison
now I have to beg a two year old employer that he might consider pretty please to re-write this letter or even downgrade just because…
I never was this angry before never came this many stupid little tiny fucking details together to annoy me to such extent I am loosing it
the will to life the will to improve the will to try the will to give a shit about anyone else that is what we are creating
a world where no one gives a shit for the other guy as long as you, your own and your future own are all well and cared for well guess what
you will be the other guy at one point and then you live in a world where no one gives a shit for you
what I learned doesn’t count because what I was forced to-do was take the jobs that were available once I started doing that I blocked
all avenues that actually would lead to a job I want because my CV has become unclear to my intentions, where do you want to go?
I had to take what I had to take and now this has become my Sisyphus stone you have to work continuously within the career
never waver never loose a job or not find the right next one straight away who leads these lives? it is not me it has never been.
but not for lack of trying because of lack of chances too highly employed too old too costly etc. etc. a reason not to give a chance
sorry for more ranting than poetry, sometimes hard to formulate in anger I usually are more Zen while writing but had to be screamed out.
comparing the pain of unemployment to that of loneliness the desire to work is greater than to be loved
it takes me hours to write and correct application letters it is kind of sad to realize that 1/2 of my applications won’t be read
a week of work a week of hope followed by a two day weekend then all hopes come crashing down again that is unemployment
people begin to realize your desperation and try to recruit you for questionable position, questionable work… I am privileged to decline
I wrote ten applications, sent them friday, today is tuesday, all declined. My life is something? I am no longer so sure, feeling safest …
in front of my screen anger is now just under the surface tears are just behind the eyes and instead of hope all I carry is doubt
I begin to question if suicide is truly ending a life if you never had one
It got better, before it got worse again I no longer sleep at night, again I no longer wish to go out, again All I tried to overcome
Has come back Has broken me again Taken the hope I built up And crashing the illusions That held up my sanity I have been driven Into madnes
With the sun my fear rises again Seemingly sleeping at night With the light you can not hide in shadows Reality again recalls me
Yet it does not wake me It only shows the truth Can I bare it another day Should I sleep till noon Rise not soon Sleep just as late
I can no longer connect to humanity To individual humans sometimes But humanity I would preffer quite Would prefer to scream, curse and cry
I do not wish to complain But I can no longer talk about these things I even try not to think them But when it happens I have to do some…
unemployment is the ditch you have to dig yourself out of every other week at the moment I am buried by the dirt that are declinations
though a new hope is not to try the usual things but to try the unusual things write, create and find more courage within that
I can not remain quite because that is surrender I can not be calm because that would be a lie so I scream & I scream and I try & try again
I am a broken machine that tries to find work while searching for meaning in mundane existence pebbled by attempts at art
if humans need to be perfect to get a job I will remain without one forever more my life is a chain of errors mistakes are just part of it
I hate being used another phone call only driven to me because he knows of my desperation working below your pay-grade becomes expected
and people begin to use you plight as a power tool and I feel sickened by it I feel angered by it no thank you wage slavery
you haven’t had work for a while so come clean up shit for a week or two for less money than you would make serving coffee how can I advance
and my social-workers phone number in his e-mail signature leeds to an invaild number
the expectation of others that I take whatever work I can only because I was unlucky for two years in a row makes me angry. I wish to work
but I also have requirements for my employer just as he has requirements for me. I am not so desperate that I have to beg, yet.
always in the defensive always looking in to how to explain it I feel like this desperation is wanted, people are encouraged to just take
what they can get there is no thought given to your state of mind or to your wishes the only things humans have to-do is work whatever
I do not know if it is pride or if it is fear that holds me back not only from screaming about the unfairness but also not accepting
offers given to desperate people circumventing all workers protections because they actually don’t have a choice
all the while of criticize my part-time employment without realizing the further education that I attended at the same time.
looking back two years, yes I am without work I was never without an attempt to try to find work what does it say about a culture
that a human of age and education can not find an employer no one willing to pay a fair salary no one willing to offer a meaningful job
what does it say about a country when your existence has to be statistically obfuscated because unemployment numbers are important
we fix them not the problems, no just the numbers so the statistics look nice and shiny
I need not the false charity of a temporary assignment or a zero hour contract, what I need is a proper contract and a fair deal.
then there is the point where you have to let all of this go still enjoy to make yourself a weekend which I intend to do free from time
I wish I could abandon property just as I wish I could abandon my needs
there it dies, hope between an application and a declination there it dies, purpose between a job you want and one you have to-do
Now I reached the point where I try not to think about my standing in this world. Whenever my mind reaches to this fact, my unemployment
I retreat, I look for something to distract me. Be it a game, a movie some music or even world news are better than these panicking-thoughts
I could create and craft be a writer and a photographer an artist by heart and trade yet I can not afford it to give my time or my soul
to something else than the pursuit of a paycheck was that what people were talking about when they imagined the freedoms of the future
was technology not there to liberate us whenever it was discovered? and in the end was it not used to improve the fate of many
yet only increased the purses of a few we teach generations that money is key we teach a culture of greed and animosity
all I learn to do is to keep face to keep calm to not be mad/e to keep it together and barely that I no longer wonder about the frustration
I am moving my possessions how have I come to so many things and yet still have not achieved anything things are not my valors nor values
You know I no longer believe that I ever get a job. Two years without one will make you appear lazy, unworthy will remove you from society
I am trying to loose myself no longer in thoughts or anger but in the poetry of others, be it in images, words or moments.
What breaks you is not the lack of money What breaks you is that you no longer Feel worthy of love or to be loved
The times I could pretend that I am worthy and valuable have passed. It was a theater I grew tired of playing. It wasn’t me or myself
I am the doubter always was I am the second guesser I am the uncertain one That is who and what I am No longer pretending To be different
the best time is the moment of delusion where you forget your standing in the world where a simple moment becomes more important
what everybody wants is his voice to be heard what everybody wants is his word to count what everybody wants is to pretend less and be more
“the fear of poverty is a treadmill” @DaveChappelle in the @colbertlateshow I can relate to that.
how I am grateful to be swept away by work by change a move a change of flat a new book a new hobby distractions that remake my sanity
yet nagging in the background the guilt of inactivity the guilt of surrender the guilt of someone who tried to often failed to often
has been rejected twice two many and once more than enough what I have to offer is mind and soul not what is expected desperation and need
the night is still my own sleep comes with the waning moon the hour of the wolf howls inspiration
my pride fuels my anger I learned to improve I learned to work yet employers only have learned to avoid their responsibilities
be it taxes which they don’t pay overworking their employees knowing that more are waiting desperately for them
I hate to see our culture succumb to the false virtues of wage-slavery. Workers have not more liberty by choosing their hours, just required
to work odd hours more often because it has become expected, without additional pay to give more of yourself to companies.
reading my first words how full of hope they were it changed I changed things changed hope has eluded me distraction has become purpose
it is bliss to ignore it it is bliss to think nothing of it it is a bliss to not be it yet it is a lie I am it
I shouldn’t get my hopes up I shouldn’t look for the light at the end of the tunnel or the silver lining at the horizon professional advice
I am being laughed at for wanting a world where money is a right, because we once said existing is a right and living should be too.
Human Resources I am the overflow, the stuff left in the storage because there’s no more demand for fairly paid humanity.
I read about triple shifts, working two jobs and I myself can’t get the one I need. I get angry, I want to scream about the unfairness
But no one cares about unfairness, this is how the world is they would say, not capable of imagine one where it ain’t so.
when I try to come back to this reality with each week I fled from it it becomes more difficult to get back in to it
for a few days now my value was my imagination my worth was defined by reactions of humans positive or negative no longer free to dream
I have to face the harsh reality of little to no chances left only to hope to have that declined by professionals because they can see
a harder disappointment ahead but I never was one to heed warnings of authority or to believe what I have been told I am one to question
was it for a long time my choices and my life my self for that matter it has again become a question about this world why did we create it
so as that suffering is rewarded to the people who caused it that despair for one is fair to the others I question again
can’t this change? doesn’t it have to? I rather question the world than myself I am not saying I am right but I am in my right to fight
once you are a step closer to resolution to salvation to employment everything starts to tilt it is what you most wanted but can you still?
next steps what to do what to write every word could change the fate again to black now what actions to take what pride to feel?
sometimes the simplest answers are the hardest questions to ask sometimes the greatest hopes can be crushed by yes or no
and once your fate seems to change you are hard pressed to believe it you can’t fathom it truly you need it in black and white to believe
my next hope is coming my next disappointment still outstanding hoping that society and rules don’t throw another branch between my legs
I feel relief to be working again even without pay to be valued as a worker is enough payment as well is to work within your conscious
an old fear returns a fear to fail to disappoint to achieve little to none yet still be shunned by all and remembered by none
then you realize what was missing was not money it was not wealth or success it was something to-do meaningful work income is secondary
secondary to my mental health that is income is what others use to gauge your importance, influence and your worth
today I struggle to find peace of mind required to sleep the issue always was when I made a mistake the guilt stays with me almost forever
the liberation that comes with a purpose the freedom that comes with responsibilities it is the confusion that people think work constraints or curtails our freedom it is the lack of money that actually keeps us covering and fearing counting down time and cash
It is not the chance of daily failures I miss It is not the responsibility I am looking for It is a feeling worthynes For anything Literally
Whereas work will not bring a solution to all my problems It will show me more clearly what else I have to adress What else is a miss In a life of chosen solitude And forced upon thriftyness
I feel the liberty of reason With the desperation of No other choice but treason To undo your beliefs To undo your convictions To survive be less human More machine
Failure is always an option and for me the way I learn to be perfect would mean to be inhumane
Again I lay awake An uncertain fear within me Grasps of loneliness Chosen solitude Unchosen inaptitude To make new friends True to me To to themselves What keeps me Is a shadow of hope
humans are hardwired to work they say and in the same breath they say that it would be immoral to give them wealth out of a fact
with the new year comes an old fear with the new year the challenges remain find work without disdain the time in employment runs out have to run to find another one
slight panic slight fear slight bit of luck and wondering if it’s deserved
once you realise that all so called progress lead you back to the beginning of your time of despair once you realise that all things achieved seem hollow once compared, once measured once found wanting for once I would like to not start at another beginning
Point reached Broken now, madness enthrals me. Work alone was not the cure Work alone was not to blame A world where meaning is gathered and stored, Collected and traded In a world of profit, the ill man is unrequited Point reached Unemployed Into madness
I am too tired to scream over the voices of my inner demons

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