there’s just something about being tired.

i’ve been tired for a decade now. it sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. i’ve got medical issues related to sleep and sleep quality, and i’ve worked various jobs which had me up and down at weird hours.

another part of the issue was multifaceted. i’ve also been struggling with mental health issues for the better part of that decade. and one of the most fun parts of that is working really takes away my fucks, and makes it hard to give fucks about anything else. so when i’m not working, i am trying to relax in order to regain my fucks. this of course results in a cyclical phenomenon wherein i spend my fucks working to get money, because i need money to live, then i spend my downtime trying to regain fucks instead of doing important things, then i feel bad about not having done important things, so i don’t regain any fucks, and then i’m back to work.

it’s been like that for a long time. either i’m working, or i’m trying to recover from/for work.

really makes me wonder how we put up with it.

makes me wonder at what point we collectively said “fuck it” and just decided to let our entire lives be dictated by “gainful” employment.

makes me wonder how it makes sense that most of us have to slave away and live payday to payday while a smaller minority of us get by on things like interest on capital stashed in the bank, or owning 3 properties and charging “””fair””” rent, or as a perfect example (which i’ll find later) a newspaper article which decried millennials as lazy and unproductive citing the example of a “”self made”” property magnate who got to where she was by leaps and bounds on the backs of luck and/or her parents but who somehow is an example we should all look up to (sorry i don’t have daddy’s money to put a deposit on a mortgage.)

makes me wonder how much we are expected to take before our sanity starts to erode, ever so slightly, and then we’re blamed for being weird or unstable.

i, for one, am fucking sick to death of my whole life being commodified. i am fucking sick to death of being a “market segment” or a “target audience”. i am so, so fucking sick of everything, everywhere, telling me what to buy, what to think, who i should care about, when the Next Big Thing ™ is coming. everything is so manufactured, so carefully pinpointed, so planned and fucking fake and it’s sickening.

every part of my life is marketable. the clothes i wear, the technology i use, the medical and cosmetic products i use (and in some cases need), the food i eat, the places i go, the websites i visit, the porn i watch, the games i play, the jewelry i wear. facebook knows more about me than i do sometimes. my god fucking damn reproductive system is marketable. fuck you and fuck pads and tampons.

there exist degrees and positions and teams and managers of teams which are dedicated specifically to finding out how to get their marketing bullshit into my brain, over and on top of everyone else’s. i’ve long had a cynical laugh about people being employed specifically to find annoying songs to put in ads, but the older i get the more i think i may not have been that wrong after all.

they want to get in my head. they want to make sure i remember their dishwasher tablets over the other guy’s. they want to own a part of me. a tiny part, sure. a part i can overwrite. but it adds up, doesn’t it?

everything is trying to take a piece of me. advertising is everyfuckingwhere. and guess what?

it’s really fucking tiring

so on top of not having won the genetic lottery and being Normal ™, and having to spend parts of my day managing my brain (gee i wonder what it feels like to be normal.), on top of not having won the family lottery and being born into wealth and never having to work a day in my fucking life (hello kardashians), on top of media telling me how i should look, how i should act, what hobbies i should have, what interests i should have, now i get to have advertisements and commercialism ripping little bits off me all the time every day.

that’s why i don’t run ads on any of my projects. not a single fucking one. i don’t track people. i don’t give a fuck about your Universal Advertising ID ™. i don’t give a fuck about google adwords or any of the other bullshit that everyone is constantly fighting over and spending hours upon hours trying to optimise to squeeze that last little cent out.

because i’m not doing this for money. i’m not doing any of this for money and i never will be.

because if you’re anything like me, you’re sick of it too, and i don’t want to contribute to it.

sick of being commodified and commercialised and marketed.

sick of being a unique anonymous advertising profile.

sick of being a preferred audience.

i am a god fucking damn person with wants and wishes and hopes and thoughts and dreams and interests and i don’t give a fuck what you’re trying to sell me.

not a single fuck.

about your fucking dishwasher tablets.

Author: eip

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