When I saw the meme below, I laughed. Then I started crying out of rage and frustration.
My bank account reads zero. So does the “savings” account linked to it. Copywriting clients are nowhere to be found. Freelance platforms are flooded with content farm work and scams. Every job that might actually cover my modest expenses wants me on-site with a bunch of non-masking strangers while a pandemic rages.
None of this makes sense. Nothing.
Except that I need to eat. I need to pay rent. I need healthcare. I haven’t been able to get a blood test for over a year because I can’t afford to. And I exist in a country where the little there is is concentrated within the hands of a few who will do everything they can to crush and obliterate anybody in their way to hoarding as much as they can.
All I want is to write my novel and all the other stories and poems bubbling up. But I can’t focus because the anxiety of what I’m navigating is overwhelming.
So, writing has to wait. And I must ask for help.
If you know of any job that pays at least three times my monthly rent (USD320 or ZAR6000 per month) and that fits my professional experience, please reach out to me. I’m not fussy and it doesn’t have to be a writing job.
Ideally the job is remote but if they want the person to come into the office, I’m limited to the city of Cape Town, South Africa.
I’m gonna dry my tears, make some coffee, and get cracking sending applications.
When I’ve run out of job ads for today, I’ll then have to place my books back on Amazon because that’s where readers want to buy from. Apparently. Sustainability and human rights abuse be damned.
I’m done fighting.
I’m giving up. My principles don’t feed and protect me. Not in this fucked-up crapitalist supremacist society.
I don’t know what’s gonna happen now. I don’t know if I’m gonna find a job. Probably not as a copywriter. Few seem to value my skillset, and most won’t offer a living wage or a safe, supportive work environment. A small part of me remains hopeful, but I won’t hold my breath.
If you want to support my writing, drop by my Ko-fi shop, read my blog, and share my work with people you think might enjoy it.
Thank you for taking a few minutes to read my post.
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DeNiM Baobab 
Oh..no no no… You’ve come a long way Dev. Don’t surrender. As long as you’re alive and could see the sunrise, it means we live to fight another day. 🙏 Keep your head up.
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I don’t want to fight. I want to live. Without fear or anxiety.
I have never been okay. Not in 40 years in this fucked-up society. Not even as a child. My progenitor, a surgeon, and yet, we still had to make a loaf of bread last for a week between 6 people.
I just want to breathe. I want to breathe for real. Not while waiting for the world to flatten me round the next corner.
All of this could be better. For every single one of us.
But no. Hoarders gotta hoard.
I hope it all fucking burns to the ground.
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