Applied to go on the dole today. Why not? I either hear nothing back from recruitment agencies at all, or get a rejection email on the same day. It’s not like I’m not trying, you know. I just have ‘not enough experience’. Not enough. Experience. Did you see the bit in my CV and my covering letter? The bit where I indicated quite clearly how much experience I had that was relevant to the job? How much more experience does one need to answer a telephone? Do you know where I could purchase some experience as I seem unable to get any without any.

Remains to be seen if the dole application will even be processed. The small print (was very small) on their website said that you can only use a Windows computer and Internet Explorer to fill in the forms. Ludicrous. Lazy programming. No excuse. Bloody minded - filled it out anyway. It was either that or not do it at all. At all. Because I’m going agoraphobic. It’s a choice. I haven’t left the flat in five days now. Why should I? Where could I go? I’m going a little bit strange you know. And I’m so fed up with trying and being patient that I’ve all but given up. It should not be this stressful, this depressing, this wearing to try and do something you don’t even want to do in the first place. That you pathologically detest. That left you feeling isolated, unfulfilled, stupid, alone and crying the last time you did it. Just to survive.

And you should see the kind of stuff I’m reduced to eating. Swill. Slop. None of your This Is Marks And Spencers Sexy Food. No Tesco finest for me. You wouldn’t feed a dog what I’m now cooking. Just stick some more parsley in it. More chillis. You won’t taste it after a while.

I can’t articulate anymore. Not right now. Just the frustration. The stupid rules and meaningless hopes and my hateful hateful bank leaching every last fragment of willpower from me. Nothing to say, yet the desire, all the same. There’s the rub. Misfortune shoves me to apathy, whilst neurotransmitters sympathise with aphasia. I do not see words, I do not smell sounds. I only hear the ticking, ticking, ticking of the relentless clock; see its haze grow as age holds my eyes that behold it.