80 lines
4.7 KiB
Plaintext
80 lines
4.7 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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{ Author's note : I was majorly depressed when I typed this into a local }
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{ BBS. It sucks from an English point of view, but it got my emotions }
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{ across well enough. For the concerned reader (yeah right) I am feeling}
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{ much better now, and without medication even. }
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Depression, the Future, and Me.
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-------------------------------
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Hmm, now that I have to prepare for going off to college, barring
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that I not be accepted, I have started thinking about the rest of my life,
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specifically, a career.
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And I don't want to. I mean, a job is fine. I've had a few, and I
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liked them, but a real career? I don't think I could handle it. I have
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enough trouble with school, and the day to day monotony. At least school has
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summers and major holidays off. A career.
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Fucking going to work every day, doing the same thing over and over,
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again and again. How long is my life going to be? At a minimum 40 to 45
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years. I can't bear the thought that I will go to college and spend money
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that neither my family or I has or will be likely to get soon, just so I can
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be qualified for a job that will burn me out in about 10 years or less.
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The future is a grim thing for me. To me the future is like a death
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sentence hanging over my head, and the only crime I ever committed is being
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born into a world of increasingly specialized fields. You can't even go from
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one good job to another without the time and money to get a brand new
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education. Damn.
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One damn word, all hard edged and sharp, like a shot bouncing off a
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wall into your head. KA-REER. Nothing to do about it but sit and rot.
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Of course, what are the options I have? Getting a good job, working
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9-5 five days a week. Sure, I could do that until I am middle aged and then
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just eat a gun over the keyboard I chained myself to. Blow my brains into
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the spreadsheet for a major project that my job would depend on.
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Or I could accept the work, and live for the goods. Shut off all of
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the idealism and be a fucking YUPPIE. Turn off all the depression and own
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a new damn BMW every three years for me and my dumpy wife and dumpy kids to
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drive around in.
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Of course, that won't work. I can't be a 9-5 person. I chafe at any
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type of firm pattern or schedule. I need more danger in my life than a system
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crash at work. More challenge than learning the new company software. More
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to fear than being fired.
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Depressingly enough, I can't do the wandering handyman routine either.
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There isn't much quality of life there. Sitting around doing odd jobs and
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slowly dying with no major accomplishments.
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I think it is called a grind because it grinds you down into grease
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for the corporate wheels. Grist for the world mill.
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So, what comes next? Do I keep looking over that next hill? Trying
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to be happy until I want to choke with joy. I suppose I could keep wandering
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and trying to find just the right thing. That might be cool. Maybe I could
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get a folk song written about me.
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It just all looks black and depressing to me.
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I dunno.
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-fastjack
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= Questions, comments, bitches, ideas, etc : z1max@ttuvm1.ttu.edu :FUCK =
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= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Flatline 303.466.5368 =
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= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Culture Shock 717.652.5851 =
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= The Keg 914.234.9674 Red Dawn ][ 410.263.2258 =
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= Accounts NOT guaranteed on any F.U.C.K. distribution site. If you are =
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= interested in writing for, or in becoming a distribution site for =
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= F.U.C.K. call Flatline and mail Disorder or mail Max on the Celestial =
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= Woodlands or internet. Knowledge is power... =
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= Note: The list of above dist. sites has been shortened due to more =
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= boards becoming dist. sites, and the footer becoming too long. From =
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= now on, only one board per area code will be put at the end of each =
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= file, and after every 25th file, a full list with more info will be =
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= put out. That is the only reason it was shortened. =
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