Joined 11 years ago from Poverty
The state of Disillusionment feels roughly comparable to someone (most likely The Man) reaching inside you (and not in the sexy way), pulling out your innards and replacing them with apathy and discontent, which has a vaguely acidic bouquet.
As a recent graduate I am very much residing in this region, with daily trips to the quaint province of Poverty and the occasional hike down Woe Is Me Valley.
Right, when you have spent most of your life ticking academic boxes (and they're not even boxes, they're fuck off essays) and then been shaken by the hand by THE famous ginge, Bill Bryson, you feel that a decent living is, justifiably, owed to you. Well wake up. NO ONE WANTS YOU.You will probably spend the rest of your life not only IN the gutter, but cleaning it. Large sums of money, or "debt" will be demanded of you in a manner much like TheTreaty of Versaille.
ACCENTIA and various other drone positions in too-depressing-to-even-contemplate graduate schemes will literally fall over themselves to offer you jobs whose titles you don't even understand, but which are surely sinister and corrupt.
The nice jobs, where you think of funny jingles, or work comfortably from home on an antique typewriter, simply do not exist, and the ones that look vaguely ok are already occupied by those who have learnt the secret handshake/job.
This hub will most likely be a long, winy list of complaints and general grumbles. There will most likely be no academic spin and any knowledge that readers may attain from this garbled mess is purely accidental and should be immediately forgotten.
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