Am I still hoping?


I almost had it.

I once had it.

I might have it.

Will I have it?


Thus goes the flow of life.

My life.

My existence seems wasted.

My soul is withering in this barren desert, devoid of hope.


I am now just a dried out discarded husk.

I am too old for this profession.

I don’t have enough work experience for that job offer.

I have too many diplomas for this job.


Where, oh, where is my place?

Where is my niche, my sweet spot?

Where is my slot?

Where can I cast my anchor?


How long will I drift in this barren, cold, cruel, tundra, the wilderness of joblessness?

Please do tell me when this torture ends!