It feels pretty serious. I write from the depths of Victorian lockdown hoping my housemate returns so I can legally squeeze in a walk before the 8pm curfew. If he isn’t back in half an hour my sole source of cardio will be news feed induced palpitations and the effort it takes to smile through zoom meetings. I’ve been working remotely for some big company I know exactly enough about to follow the sales script and log the responses correctly. It’s one of those peak alienation at the hand of capitalism, at my souls expense for minimum wage experiences that, in this climate I know I’m lucky to have. My days are filled with a malaise of guilty dissatisfaction spiked with doses of international panic, death, disease, natural disasters, looming economic crashes and the rise of professional tiktokers.
IS IT SERIOUS?
IS IT SERIOUS?
IS IT SERIOUS?
It feels pretty serious. I write from the depths of Victorian lockdown hoping my housemate returns so I can legally squeeze in a walk before the 8pm curfew. If he isn’t back in half an hour my sole source of cardio will be news feed induced palpitations and the effort it takes to smile through zoom meetings. I’ve been working remotely for some big company I know exactly enough about to follow the sales script and log the responses correctly. It’s one of those peak alienation at the hand of capitalism, at my souls expense for minimum wage experiences that, in this climate I know I’m lucky to have. My days are filled with a malaise of guilty dissatisfaction spiked with doses of international panic, death, disease, natural disasters, looming economic crashes and the rise of professional tiktokers.