Time to go

I think I have to go. I am so fucking tired of dicks. I am becoming a bitter person. I don’t want to be. But I can’t stand the inane, self-aggrandising bollocks anymore. Before lockdown, I could hide sometimes, keep busy with real work and let the pointless words drift over my head, and land on the floor. But now it’s all online, I have to fucking read it, pinging in to my house at all hours of the day and night. Yabber, yabber, yabber. Nothing relevant to work, nothing of interest, only pointless bollocks about people I have nothing in common with, who only care about themselves and their own shitty sanctimonious opinions.

If I don’t reply, or send a nauseating emoji of a fucking cake or rainbow, at the next bloody online meeting in my own fucking house, I have to listen to whatever cuntishness it was again, “just in case I had missed it” and then be forced to grin, nod or make some acceptable noise. If I don’t, it will be met with scowls. If only I had the guts to say “fuck off, I don’t care about you or your shitty opinions. I hate you. I wish you would die”.

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Posted in Workrant.

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