Close Your Ears

I just need one blog, one opportunity, one chance. Those with a delicate soul close your ears, I'm going to swear. Writing this blog was supposed to be an opportunity to vent my spleen. In recent months I've started to filter what I write based on who might read it...... not this entry.

I hate Southampton. This is a shit city, it has nothing worthwhile to offer and if it wasn't for work I would never choose to be here. Don't let the press fool you. It's a trash heap.

I live in an expensive cardboard box with loud neighbours and even louder locals. I pay through the nose to live on a major high street, both traffic and pedestrians. On the rare occasion my shit bed lets me drop off to sleep, the noise outside will do it's best to wake me again. I have no reason to ever hurry home at night.

I'm too much of a good guy. Why do I let anyone who comes along walk all over me? My life is dictated by other peoples wishes. Why do I not have the ability to say 'Fuck Off'.

I work for a complete wanker. He has no idea how to manage a company, and has no inter personal skills. I also know if he makes a mistake he blames me for it to the owners, knowing I can't argue because I don't speak German. I love my job, but I hate what is above me. There is going to be a day when I get proof he's been doing it and then the shit is going to hit the fan, but I'm sure even then I'll come off worse.

I hate being in debt. I know I caused it, I know there is no one else to blame, but I shouldn't be 34 and worrying about money. Maybe I should have declared myself bankrupt years ago. I just couldn't do that though. I'm not that kind of person. It is still a pain in the arse.

I hate myself that I can't cope with depression. My life has very few 'up' moments, but rather that strive to achieve another one I spend my entire existance dwelling on the 'down'. Even when I'm in the middle of a dizzying high I still spend time looking for the faults. I seem to want to know when it's going to end, rather than enjoy the moment while it lasts. Perhaps my glass is always half empty...

...swearing rant over. Sorry readers.