It looks like a really depressing title but i assure you i’m laughing at how hard life is..
I’ve been trying to get NYCID to become employable so i can stop digital panhandling on the bottom of all of my blog posts. It seems impossible to get an ID, you need a photo ID to get ID. what the fuck? How is a man supposed to go from sleeping on a pile of cardboard on a sidewalk, to a card carrying wage slave? the fucking game is rigged.
I have a social security card, benefit card, birth certificate and something called a pantry ID (homeless ID). It’s not enough apparently, i don’t know what the fuck i’m supposed to do.
The whole thing reminds me of the song my mom and i made up in boston, when i was trying to get my medications at CVS and having problems with that. the song is only one line:
“LIFE IS A PIT, AND YOU CANT…GET…OUT”
we were laughing about how hard it is to live when you’re poor and marginalized. I’m laughing now, because i dont know what the fuck else to do about it.
the song is inspired by a very depressing lenoard cohen song. i want to link the song and share some of the lyrics. It’s so depressing it made us laugh.
“And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore
And there are no diamonds in the mine”
So lets have a fucking sing along man, the song is easy, anyone can sing it.
“LIFE IS A PIT.AND…YOU…CANT…GET…OUT”
You can throw some help down the pit if you want, i would appreciate it:
Of course theres the link of links
Note: Forgive the poor grammar and punctuation, i dont fucking care.
