Frustrated at anger

Yesterday I wrote a scathing and immature view of people who do self-promotion etc for their art or product. I had become angry at seeing stuff pushed by people I don’t know for things in which I have no interest.

I am very bloody lucky that I was smart enough to schedule the post and not hit publish straight away.

I am even luckier that I deleted the post this morning after thinking down some of my own arguments in the post. A thing I wish more people would do.

The conclusion I’ve arrived at is, if I’m not interested in or dislike something I can just scroll by, not participate and keep on going. I don’t have to tear down somebody else to feel superior. I just need not engage. This is especially important now when so many artists are operating on such fine margins between paying the bills and being out on the street.

What has gotten me, is the sheer level of irritation and anger. Where does it come from? Jealousy and envy for sure, these people are accomplishing so much more than I ever will during this whole period of my life. Anger that I’m working while my furloughed neighbours can enjoy the time with their families. Anger at people not obeying the rules which will make this whole thing last longer than it should. You name something and I have a passionate view on it.

I have always been a person who is what would be considered hot tempered. What it really is, is more to do with my own failings as a person which I’m trying to change. Primarily driven out of frustration.

That’s what’s going on really, right now. I’m frustrated because of so many things. Mostly about the lack of time to do things or the lack of ability. I am on the fence about my novel. I’m lost when it comes to inspiration. When I do sit down to write, bam! Distraction.

Inspiration is fleeting, that’s why I’m writing nonsense posts. Energy is variable at best. Yes, I know if I exercised, I’d have more energy but trying to balance everything that ensures balanced energy is also a fleeting mistress. The other thing is time. Time for my own stuff is much more limited under lockdown than I imagined it would be.

Having all three elements come together like a magical productivity cake, well that’s just madness.

The frustration continues…..

Some Marginally Filtered Xennial Rage!

You know what I am fed up with? Being a Millennial. Actually technically I’m a Xennial but it’s much of a muchness.

Constantly I’m under a barrage of “buy this” of “Do that” and of course “FOMO”. People who are even five years older than me constantly saying “oh why don’t you just buy?”

It’s made me bite my tongue and not drop into a furious rage at them, sigh and go, “well we’re working on it”.

Do people not understand how fucking difficult it is to save?! In Edinburgh you need about £25,000 to realistically buy a house that’s inhabitable. Flats have their advantage but I’m too old to be dealing with stair politics or caring about being within stumbling distance from the pub.

I’m not going to lie, pre 2008 I had a damn good time. Mostly it’s a haze since I was probably drunk for most of it.

Post 2008. Well fuck! I was lucky and I kept my job but saw the impact of austerity on friends and loved ones. It was hard. Life went from planning for a future and retirement to living from month to month. Honestly it’s the biggest joke that you earn what would be a reasonable wage but because everything got so expensive that you were perpetually broke.

That’s been me ever since. My salary has decreased but costs are still pretty much the same.

What gets me is that I know I’m lucky being able to rent comfortably and keep pets. However we can’t do all of this and also save.

“Get rid of the pets and get a cheaper flat”

Nope, I love the cats and wouldn’t get rid of them.

As to the flat. I’m sure there’s probably a place cheaper but not as comfortable. Also it’s about quality of life. I do not want to be in my seventies and finally have that four bed house but absolutely no happy memories other than the argument about why we can’t have meat tonight we’re saving for a house. Fuck that shit. Also give me a steak!

In real terms we will probably never be able to buy our own place. I really just want to love someplace where I can paint the walls and put down new flooring. A place where I’m not always slightly worried we’ll be turfed out because the landlord decided to sell. It’s already happened to us before.

So there’s no happy balance but I swear I will end up arrested for shouting and swearing at the next person who suggests that we buy.

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