job centre

1) My benefits advisor basically agreed with me that I’m not fit to work, agreed with me that my student loan barely covers tuition and is nowhere near sufficient to pay rent and live on, then informed me that I may very well not get Universal Credit because I’m a student, then basically agreed with me that I’m kinda fucked and may have to borrow money or drop out of my course. I have to provide shitloads more paperwork and go back next week.
2) I came out of the job centre, sighed and lit a cigarette and some old geezer said ‘I know exactly how you feel mate’ #underclasssolidarity
3) The benefits system is a kafkaesque nightmare which is more difficult to negotiate than most actual paid jobs.

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underclass

enemies disguised as peers and lovers

and they want to bring you down

there are drug dealers spinning plates

while the social circle is torn to bits

by centrifugal force, its so very sad

I wish I could save the whole underclass

 

rat park is a distant dream

we live in a cage instead

 

but dammit I approached the work with an intellectual praxis

where he relied entirely on aesthetic judgements and intuition

 

it was all

ultimately

meaningless

fucksake