Braden Georgeson
You mean I can make money from this Braden

A year ago I uploaded a story I wrote 2 years before at university. It didn’t have anything to do with my assignments, I just really liked Infinite Jest and wanted to draw comparisons to our current life and the technology in the book. Nobody read it until yesterday, where someone ‘’clapped’’ it and I noticed I received 16 cents American.

Which is a big deal for an Australian. The exchange rates are insane at the moment.

This paltry sum got me thinking. My current financial state is deplorable, I live with my parents at 23 years old, I work as a glassie two days a week in a bar, I’m a university drop out and I have no marketable skills.

And I earned 16 cents for something I wrote.

That’s better than earning 0 cents for doing stuff I don’t enjoy. Which is ruminating in my room wondering where my life went so wrong, blaming my parents for my shitty childhood, lack of ambition and lamenting my existence. Or I guess I do enjoy that stuff, otherwise I wouldn’t do it. Who knows the explanations for human behaviour. Supposedly the subconscious is dictating my every move, and life is a deterministic experience where I’m strapped in for each soul sucking moment, trying desperately to get off the roller coaster of destiny.

Bleak huh. Maybe that isn’t true and I’m being melodramatic because I’m bored. Probably. Wouldn’t be the first time.

So.. can I make money off of this website? It’s possible. Even if it’s barely anything i’d be content. At least for the initial period before the new becomes ordinary, and the ordinary becomes mundane, and the mundane becomes existential.

Do I have to resort to cheap click bait titles? 7 ways your to tell your cat loves you. Top 10 ways to know your cats Zodiac sign. 5 ways to know if your boyfriend is lactose intolerant. 10 ways to know if your life is going nowhere (You wont believe number 1 — Hint, your reading this article).

Probably, huh? It’s stereotypical to denigrate anything that’s successful and bemoan that your own work isn’t appreciated because the unwashed masses can’t differentiate between gold and shit. While producing nothing to be consumed. Criticising is easy, creating is hard.

Or not even hard. Just something you don’t feel like doing so you can rationalise it away while pretending your are capable of producing something awe inspiring. You just haven’t had inspiration strike you, so it’s not your fault nothing beautiful has emerged yet.

I don’t know if I want to get my hopes up and think that I’ll be able to earn money off of this thing. What are the chances anyone clicks on this article and does whatever necessary thing to get money into my account. Is it clicking the hands at the bottom? I’m not versed in this website.

But it would be cool. It’d be better than wasting my time going back to university, only to bum around buying coffees and zoning out during lectures, not doing readings and staring at the clock during tutorials wondering when this torment will be over, and anxiously awaiting the time when my social grace reaches it’s crescendo when I can no longer tell people that I’m studying — and have the weighted expectations of getting a full time job to smooth the flow of monotonous social interactions with people I don’t care for.

Keeping up appearances for illusions in my mind. Trying to appease them as much as possible so I don’t have conversations in my mind later that make me feel bad. I’m not schizophrenic by the way. At least I think so.

What is it about talking to other people that is so annoying?

I mean with my friends I can tolerate it. Sometimes. Other times I’d rather isolate myself in a bubble that I can safely walk around in public with that’s completely sound proof to prevent anyone from talking to me. I feel like this perception paints me as some kind of celebrity. People are clamouring for my attention, so I must take proactive measures to insulate me from the dirty touch of others. It’s nice to think so loftily of myself. For a bit. Until you stumble off the mountain you’ve created for yourself and suffer all the injuries of slowly scraping down the steep egoish hill, only to wallow in self pity at the end.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what the hell I’m going to do with my life. I had a pleasant period of completely avoiding any engagement with my existence, where I’d delude myself into thinking I was making progress by immersing myself in self help. It’s funny that an entire industry dedicated to improving someones life can be use as a deterrent to stimulate any change.

Maybe because I deviated into the soft core stuff. Spirituality, focusing on the inner self, healing the wounded child, law of attraction, thinking in terms of energy, frequency and vibration. This woo woo stuff has no physical properties, so any ‘’action’’ you take can seemingly have no causality which inoculates yourself from any failure. It’s a pleasant delusion for a while, but it has a big bill at the end. With interest.

I remember having conversations with people at football. Yeah I used to play football. I quit because I got really depressed that I put in heaps of time to get good at something that I slowly started to hate, alongside feeling inadequate because I didn’t have a full time job like all the other guys, and felt alienated from the culture. Then I started to hate playing the game and wondered what it was all for. Probably to get affection from my Dad. Maybe he would love me if I kicked a ball through some sticks.

Anyway. I asked them what how they got into the jobs they had. Two people specifically. One was a school teacher (PE, my failed university endeavour) and the other an electrician. They both had the identical response, and I asked them on the same day which was a funny synchronicity. Perhaps it aligned so in this moment I could present this interesting bit of trivia to you reader.

The answer was ‘’ I just kind of fell into it’’. Underwhelming, no?

Upon further reflection of this idea, I became irritated. Fell into it? That sounds like how you incur an injury, rather than choosing a fulfilling career that will occupy the majority of your life. Wouldn’t you rather have a bit more awareness and autonomy in arguably one of the biggest decisions in your life? Your vocation. What you will wake up and do every day, 5 days a week for 8 hours.

Oh that thing, yeah I just fell into it.

But then there was me, someone who had ‘’avoided’’ all of the holes of employment, who was miserable and lamenting the fact that I had no hole to hide in. Wondering where a suitable hole was for me to sit in for the rest of my life.

What’s the alternative? Aimlessly wandering around the earth, observing others in their holes and commenting on how bleak and boring an existence it is while they focus on whatever activity their hole entails. At least the scenery is different.

Do I want a hole? Or do I want to change the way others think about me. Are these things separable? Getting a full time job is a nice way to reduce the scorn of others. Then again, why should I be so preoccupied from minimising negativity from others? Ideally I should be immune to the perceptions of others and be in touch with my own soul, following it’s gravitational pull in whatever direction it see’s fit.

My soul, not my ego that is.

I feel like most people get into jobs because it’s seen as the right thing to do. Alongside the necessity of money. Becoming a pillar of the community or something. They can ‘’fit in’’. Nobody will ask any questions of them. Their eyes can glaze over them, no anomalies in their existence. A perfect battery connected to the matrix.

I don’t know. Does anyone know anything? All I know is that I get grumpy and spew out a bunch of vitriol that is somewhat coherent, typically illogical and rife with unfair comparisons that seek to bolster my viewpoints. With the sole intention of making myself feel a tiny bit better about myself — if only for a moment.

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