Job Interview

‘What do you think your main weaknesses are?’

‘Well, I’ve never been able to fully differentiate between what is real and what is not so that’s a bit of an ongoing issue for me, really’

‘Oh, right’

‘Yeah – I thought I would shake it off as I got older but …

I didn’t’


I hate how
Coffee shops are
Laptop use
On the weekends
Because apparently that’s ‘family time’
Which completely disregards the fact that my 
MacBook is

NB: Yes I know they are just saying that to sell more brunches

July – October 2017

I had harboured deep, detailed fantasies of being a Hampstead recluse for years but when I accidentally tripped into a ditch of luck and was able to enact this beautiful, intricate design …
Well it was fun for a while, hanging out in coffee shops, contemplating a considerable amount of jazz but after about a week I thought:
‘This is a quite boring now and I miss

Gantt charts and their limitations 

I started making all these organisational plans and charts and deadlines for my writing and I was going to autopost blogs for the next 2 years so that I could do this project and that project and be time management personified
But then I thought:
You idiot!
That’s not how this works!
That would be like telling
He needed an


I did flirt with the idea of poetry for a time, last year
Before I recalled that
66.6% of the poets
I have
Have broken my
And those are really
Not good

Not good news

Migraine man says in his Irish accent that he recommends a 3 month course of drugs to clear my migrained mind away
I say:
He says:
There are some side effects, though
I say:
Such as?
He says:
Well – they can change your perceptions. They might make things … devoid of meaning … etc
I say:
WHAT? MATE! I’m trying to be a
How’s that gonna work??
No no NO
No drugs for me


I got to wondering how much
An articulation of
Would always end up being
A corruption
Of it

I stroke my chin
Mmmmm yes that’s a good point
But … what else are you gonna use all this



She says:
What’s the book about?
I pause and gaze into the distance between us:
The story is … there is no story
She says:
Sorry – What?
I said:

The Artist On Art School

There was a
Girl on my course who would
Always draw
Abstract geometric shapes
Regardless of the brief
Design a set?
“I envisioned a world which does not exist physically” she said, showing a giant drawing of
Abstract geometric shapes
The teacher said
“Is this…the floor?”
She said
“There is no floor, perhaps not even gravity”

She got a 1st.


Aoife eyes me suspiciously and says:
Do you even have a job?
Are you like one of those dads from the 80s
Who leaves with his briefcase every morning coz he’s too humiliated to admit he’s been fired?

Gainful Employment

I have this little office all to myself
Which is nice
And I have this little fire escape all to myself
Which is nice
I like the idea that I won’t get burnt alive within these four walls
I have a view
A sunny view
I gaze out through my sunny view sometimes and I think solely about
In a kind of warm, literary way
It’s not so bad
It’s not so bad


It’s all just a
From death
Isn’t it?
The ‘Career’
Hamster wheeling away
Trying to keep
The Reaper at bay



*NB: As far as distractions from death go, I would wholeheartedly recommend love, instead.

Life Of A Temp

I think I prefer
Short term
It’s kinda cool
Being a
Transitory figure
In these people’s

Just passing through
Just a
Quick glance
A snapshot of me, today
Just a story

‘Professional Courtesy’

It was like the most aggressive game of conversational ping pong ever played
All I could do was sit and watch, frozen in fear
I was suddenly
Very interested in
Spiral bound scribbling
Back forth back forth
They had precedence but

Annual Leave

I lie on my bed
Affect a Christ like shape
Dangle my head off the side
Let the blood run up
Travel back through it all
And think
You’re not there yet
But you will be
You will be
You will be

On Sensitivity

They say
Oh you’re too sensitive
Why do you care so much?
They say
I don’t care what anyone thinks of me
And yet
These are always the same people who
Submit to their careers like lovers
What do they think that is?
Do they not realise that requires someone else’s approval?
There’s always someone at the end of it
With a clipboard and


She said
Yeah but when you write about other people it still sounds like you’re writing about you
I said
What are other people
If not a

Not For Me

Work for us for 35 years
They say
We will take your life
In return
(If you’re lucky enough to have a shot at a few years of illness ridden retirement)
You will be presented with this lovely Parker pen
That we ourselves got free
For just enquiring about how our loved ones will pay for funeral related costs when we die


Everyone on the tube looks exhausted
It’s only 8am and we’re dirty already
I’m thinking
The northern line,
Now living within us
Giving us all

Opting In To Probability

Opting out of pension schemes seems to have become a full time job almost
The form warns:
You do know you will have a lower income when you retire?
What about your family?
‘Oh how awful to be old and poor’,
They seem to be saying
I’m screaming at them whilst I sign and date:

First Hurdle Falling

Me: Hi can I get an application form for the job in the window please?
Them: Have you worked in a book shop before?
Me: Erm………
*looks upward*
*leaves long uncomfortable silence*
Them: We don’t have any forms left

Exchange With Aoife And Anna On Oxford Street 9/11/14

Aoife: Oh I hate Oxford Street it’s so busy isn’t it?
Sara: Yeah. I’m trying to find a scrabble set, any ideas? I’ve tried BHS, John Lewis…
Anna: Online?
Sara: Yeah I need it now though … it’s for a … baby, it won’t be relevant for long
Aoife: I was just thinking I wonder if Sara is in John Lewis…
Sara: Yeah, I spend most Sundays there, I just love the people in there you know they’re all like ‘oh no after you, no after you’
Aoife: Aren’t they all shareholders though?
Sara: Are they?
Aoife: Yes
Sara: Oh. Right. Well.
Sara: Anyway I was supposed to be doing job applications but… (I look to Anna)
I quit my job you see
Anna: Oh congratu-
Sara: Yeah it’s really empowering… the poverty…
Sara: Maybe I’ll try Hamleys or something they might have one there
Sara: Anyway, I’m rambling now
Anna: Well nice to meet you!
Sara: Yeah, yeah
*Swirls around*
Anna and Aoife: WATCH OUT FOR THE BUS!!

Idiom Analysis 2

‘We don’t have a crystal ball for this type of thing’

I think the use of crystal balls as a reliable method of predicting and interpreting phenomena has been largely discredited in the last, I don’t know, two hundred years.


Every day this week
My brain has woken me up
At 4am
What are your thoughts on Socrates?
It asked
I said
Shhhhh shhh now
I can give you an hour on the bus, tomorrow morning, to think about this
It said
Ah ok no worries…..
*I start to fall back to sleep*
My mind interjects
‘So… Is the unexamined life worth living or not?’

On ‘Potential’

That scene at the end of ‘Withnail and I’ where he performs the perfect Shakespearean soliloquy to a pack of wolves, and you think what a waste, what a fucking waste. And that, that is our entire generation completely utterly depicted there, in him. And I’m so fucking angry that so many of my friends, with their strong minds, their beautiful minds, are pissing away their lives because, what else is there? Half the jobs are just bullshit thinly disguised as otherwise, where if you’re lucky you lose all sense of yourself. Or if you’re unlucky you forget you ever even had a sense of self. And the creative ones, where you try and monetise your soul and to your disappointment find out it’s barely worth an unpaid internship in arts administration. Or you do your day job and say you’ll do your creative stuff in the evenings and at the weekends but sometimes you’re just too tired from the day job and the day job makes structures in your mind where there were none and increasingly, you – who you really are – is whittled down to near extinction.

And the piercing irony of it all is that we … we come from Blair’s ‘education, education, education’ era. Yet what Blair never understood is if everyone has something, no-one does. And so we all do a masters now in something we’re vaguely interested in, and we probably do it part-time so we can string out more time before actually having to accept the fact that there’s nothing there anymore. Our parents who strolled in to not jobs, not careers, but lives. They don’t understand and even the socialists use the Tory line of ‘just work harder’ now. Of course, the ennui should have left us in our early twenties but still slouches around our veins like a never ending hangover. And people tell us about our ‘potential’. That’s the worst one. Always vaguely saying we have some potential, something… different, but for what, and how to be utilised, is never really specified.

And the clever ones of us became teachers because we know teachers are respected. Teachers can countersign your fucking passport application. But what for those that don’t want to teach? Or at least, not yet. That want to create something that will last longer than they will. Well I guess we all know deep down we can’t do this anyway; the Internet took away any notion of our own legacies. It was this massive gift, this Trojan horse gift, to our generation. The amount of Internet traffic generated in a millisecond shows we won’t be remembered. We will fall in to the abyss of macro history. Oblivion: take it, it’s yours.

It was almost like the perfect peaceful 90s was this sweetener for what was to come. We must now work in an office where we sit in a row, administration by any other name, tap tap typing away the best years of our lives with bureaucratic language and inauthentic tones. And kind regards and best wishes and moving forward and where were we with this one and have a good weekend and add this to the agenda and diarise that and can you conditional format this excel document and print 50 copies double sided in colour and 8 slides to a page and ANY WORDS APART FROM THOSE THAT SAY ANYTHING FUCKING REAL.

And I wonder … how many, how many of our generation are screaming soliloquies to wolves?

Well the discerning of us did science. And I guess they were happy in that but I remember the pathologist who sighed heavily one night; ‘I would have loved to be a stand up comedian’, her brow furrowed from her anxious push pushing parents legacy. And I guess you could work in health care or helping people in society for barely minimum wage and long hours and then the government cuts funding because what hedge fund manager is interested in actual people and you get made redundant and then you really wonder what it was all about. So you take the safe choice and work 9 to 5 and you tell yourself you just wanted the easy life when really you know it’s the harder life, and you ignore the ever growing voice in your mind which is ambitious but not in the conventional way, and it gets louder and louder as it shouts ‘but… I want more‘. And I wonder how long you can ignore that voice. Maybe until you die. Because, you know, you really, really, know, there is nothing more. Than this.