The Drivel Thread

[yesnowinlose]

What job did you apply for ?

Alas, circumstances drove me into a corner – in order to earn money for a normal laptop and design courses (because without this diploma, commercial bastards do not hire beginners), I had to go to the accounting assistant, since I have a diploma. Two overweight women told me emphatically "no" despite positive letters of recommendation from previous jobs.

21st century in the yard. Someone talks about tolerance for people with a lot of weight. And no one wants to talk about how these same people with a lot of weight (and complexes, apparently) tell thin applicants that they are “not suitable, as they will embarrass our employees with their slender body build, because of this they will complex and work worse"

 

[Was I ever any good]

Lighthouse work is the main person to chat with on here about IT things.
In know 4ck all about such matters.

 

[yesnowinlose]

Lighthouse work is the main person to chat with on here about IT things.
In know 4ck all about such matters.

Oh, thanks! Hopefully it will be cheaper than therapy

Nevertheless, I put these ladies in their place, because I will not allow such "wildness" not only in my address, but also in relation to others (I had to deal with this when my slender friends were "offended" in my presence). That's why I like it when people "live themselves and let live" and not start a creepy howl about "you're too slim/beautiful/smart/weird, so you don't fit us". This does not develop complexes, but still disappointing, despite the cynicism.

As usual, I was "rescued" by Morrissey's songs, and my smile embarrassed passengers on the subway on the way home

 

[Light Housework]

Oh, thanks! Hopefully it will be cheaper than therapy

Nevertheless, I put these ladies in their place, because I will not allow such "wildness" not only in my address, but also in relation to others (I had to deal with this when my slender friends were "offended" in my presence). That's why I like it when people "live themselves and let live" and not start a creepy howl about "you're too slim/beautiful/smart/weird, so you don't fit us". This does not develop complexes, but still disappointing, despite the cynicism.

As usual, I was "rescued" by Morrissey's songs, and my smile embarrassed passengers on the subway on the way home

Rock n' roll your skin and bones!

 

[Light Housework]

Posting this here for myself, so I can easily find it.

 

[Light Housework]

I had a burst of energy last evening, but today I feel like a lead balloon physically.

 

[Light Housework]

I'm starting to entertain the idea of believing in God, because I heard my name at the cued up beginning of the video above.

 

[Light Housework]

I long for nothing more than to be reunited with The Dancer of my youth, and I do believe he is Morrissey.

 

[Light Housework]

I had been freshly abused by a man at 12 or 13 in Montreal. He had been a busker playing Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin, and he promised me that I'd be his princess and he would carry me off into the land of love if I would run away from the group home I lived in, where the group home parents treated us kids as mere livestock. So I ran away from the group home and wound up, after a few days living with him, getting whipped by his guitar strap, and held behind a locked door for my social worker to come get me, with the ransom being that a fellow group home resident who was 16, would have sex with him once I was back in the group home.

I was placed back into the group home, from which I quickly exited to go to a night club with two buddies. I had no trouble getting into bars at 12 and 13. I ordered a drink and it came, but I didn't touch it. I moved toward the dance floor instead, to shake off the trauma, and there were only two people on the floor. Two men in khaki who really seemed to love each other, so I went to the other side of the floor so as not to disturb them, and when I began to dance, or soon after, one of those men joined me, and I didn't feel any fear of him. I felt with him, that I was finally home. In my imagination as we danced, we were on another planet, on ice, and we were fighting for our lives with laser guns. It felt real, but when one of my buddies approached me after an hour or so, and asked me whether I was staying or going with my buddies who were leaving, I figured from my fresh traumatic experience that if a male likes you in public, that affection will turn to hate in private, so I decided that leaving The Dancer was best, or he'd feel compelled to murder me in private, because he really loved me.

So I turned my gaze away from The Dancer, and left with my buddies. I do believe that dancer was Morrissey. There is nothing I want more, than to be reunited with The Dancer.

 

[Light Housework]

I am fixated on being with Morrissey.

 

[Light Housework]

my butchering Sure Enough the Telephone Rings

 

[Light Housework]

If you'd had Jack the Ripper playing on the car's speakers, I would have calmed down, I'm sure. Maybe next time?

 

[Light Housework]

I'm calming down now, because I've started to believe in God, and it's humbling.

 

[Lucifer Sam]

I'm calming down now, because I've started to believe in God, and it's humbling.

Does your god have a name?

 

[Light Housework]

Does your god have a name?

Not that I know of.

 

[Was I ever any good]

Thought he was called Dave

 

[Light Housework]

This kid reminds me of Morrissey.

 

[Mozzer1980]

my butchering Sure Enough the Telephone Rings

A little too much auto-tune, but it's OK by me

 

[Lucifer Sam]

Not that I know of.

Does this god have a gender? Do you pray to it? Has it revealed itself to you in any way? Is there a church or a temple where you can worship the god?

 

[Light Housework]

Does this god have a gender? Do you pray to it? Has it revealed itself to you in any way? Is there a church or a temple where you can worship the god?

My God has no gender that I'm aware of. I have been praying to it. It revealed itself to me by showing me that Morrissey sung my name (see above concert video, already cued up to when he sings my name, Sharon, over and over). I don't necessarily need a church but my apartment is a sort of a temple. I guess I should clean it. My neighbourhood is a temple too. I might clean some garbage on its streets, with a mental health worker, on an overcast day, because my skin burns in peak sunlight. At least I've been painting.

So far I've prayed to it to help me be balanced, to paint well, to let me keep my teeth in good enough condition to continue being able to eat, and to reunite me with Morrissey, and for us to get along with each other well, as at least friends, and to guide me whether to omit telling of it here or not. I hope I can relearn to be discreet, should we meet again, and this time spend some quality time together rather than keeping our distance.