The Fake Twat “Entrepreneur”

Hi, I’m “The Entrepreneur”.

I’ve escaped the “rat race”. In case you haven’t noticed, I am literally describing you as a rat.

Everytime you are unlucky enough to have to bear my arrogant presence, I will remind you of your rat like status, scouring for your measly penny pay checks.

I actually have bollocks underneath the bollocks that I talk, hence I am entitled to speak my bollocks, leaving nothing left to describe me but as a cock.

You see, I’ve read around three self help books a year. That’s a lot, for some-one who doesn’t usually read. Each of these books that I’ve pretended to read state that to be a successful entrepreneur, you have to be persistent, hardworking, dedicated and the last to give up at being a superficial twat.  I understand concepts like integrity, honesty, decency, transparency, dignity- outdated and irrelevant ideas in my view. It’s a wolf eat sheep out there- and I live by that motto of praying on the weak. I don’t care if its an old granny with dementia and her only income that she has in her pocket she needs to buy her bread for the evening, it’s her own stupidity that left her in the rat race and if I need to take her money I will do. This is capitalism old friend, not for the faint hearted, or for any-one with any heart for that matter.

Did I mention to you my business? It’s going really well. I basically sit at home and do fuck all, live off my deceased father’s wealth and sell some shit on eBay occasionally. I’m going on holiday for six months, which I call “travelling to find myself”. I also watch Ted Talks, motivational speeches on Youtube and lately, I’ve invested in Bitcoin. Have you invested in Bitcoin? I’m happy to advise you for no charge at the next dinner party that we meet at, where you will talk of education, austerity cuts, public health and science and I’ll just talk about Bitcoin. You won’t miss me – I’ll be wearing the white suit that my fiancee picked out for me, as she too holds the entrepreneurial spirit of being with me for my perceived wealth, of which, when she finds out is nothing, will dump me like a bag of groceries that I’ll end up stacking on the shelf once shit hits the fan and she tells me to grow up, stop living with mummy and daddy and get a mortgage, and threatens to leave me if I don’t.

The truth is too difficult to handle, which is that I am just an ordinary being. Yet, I harbour fantasies of success, wealth and power, of which it is unlikely on my current trajectory that I’ll ever obtain. I hope that I do, for I find the qualities of vulnerability and dependance that I have so unbearable that I’ve split them off and projected them onto you people and labelled you as “rats”. I hold envy for not being able to enjoy the connectedness of being a part of a community that I can serve and gain pleasure from, instead choosing to follow a law of attraction/rich dad, poor dad dream unsuccessfully, leaving me snarking alone from a distance at your reliance on one another and claiming you are all “sheep”. My world is that of materialism and fakeness which includes my relationships with others, which exists only superficially from our understanding of each others self proclaimed statuses and nothing more- we see each other as falsely as we see ourselves. Whilst I hold this fantasy of success, I despise those who are handed wealth from their parents, despite this being my very own upbringing. Despising myself, I will go on to despise my child’s privileges and project onto him spoiltness and greed from myself. My child will in  turn despise himself and this sad cycle will continue and so long will live my surname and my status for many generations to come. 

 

The Perfect Family Member

Hi,

Im the “Perfect Family Member”.

A bit like “the IT guy” and the “mysterious girl“, I’m all about family as it has just about enough structure and tolerance to allow my bullshit to grow, unlike friends who can choose not to spend any more time with my bollocks.

I’m the person that will greet you with a smile as you enter the door late as I am always early. I will have made the tray of a thousand fancy sausage rolls whilst you feel guilty for actually following the hosts instructions and bringing enough food for ten people. I’m the person who will say goodbye to you with a smile as you leave the door early, whilst I stay late…and so on. You will always get a text from me, on time, on christmas, new years, anniversaries, birthdays, when you leave for holiday, when you return from holiday as if I am an automated bot set on level irritance, but nothing more.

Apart from this concoction of superficial twat behaviour,  you will literally not get an ounce of conversation of any depth from me for the next thirty years you will know me. We shall speak only of holidays, bed linen, sofas and food intolerances. That shall be all. Ask me about my fears, my relationship tribulations, my guilty feelings towards my children, why I sink into a chair the moment this family charade is over and I’ll just smile at you and ask whether you want a sausage roll. The more you push, the more high pitched my offerings will become until I sound and look like a wound up and chewed barbie doll on crack.

Expect no other conversation in between the family dos. There’s no point- I have no need to actually get to know you as a person. Do expect, however, for me to turn up on your death bed to bring some food that no-one will eat, to then bugger off ten minutes later and pat myself on the back for being the perfect family member.

Why am I like this? You can hypothesise. You can come up with one of your theories as you have with “The IT guy” and with the “Mysterious girl” and the rest of the superficial twats. But your guess, unfortunately, is as good as mine, as I yet have not allowed myself to let my mask slip around you. The one thing that is obvious is that I am lonely and tired of hiding my burdens from others in order not to sadden your life. I don’t want to bring my baggage onto the lives of others. What I need to learn is that the range of emotions we experience makes us who we are and that sharing them allows our bonds to grow into something real, rather than remaining superficial. Why not take the chance…liberate  yourself and share the real you, rather than boring us all for the next thirty years we have to see you and eat your shitty sausage rolls. 

Dear My Co-Dependant Mother

Dear Mother,

You know I will always love you.

You were always there for me. You had to do the job of both father and mother. You took me to school, clothed, fed, cooked…everything.

I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you, thrown on the street by father.

I wish that you stood up to him, that you told him that he was wrong. I know that was hard, probably dangerous for you. I saw when he hit you with the shoe, when I was a young boy. I don’t think I told you though. You both made up quite fast and I didn’t want to spoil it for you.

I know that you couldn’t stand up to him directly…none of us could. I wish that maybe you could have told me that he was wrong though. That way, I wouldn’t have believed that I was always wrong. It took me a long time to realise that I am not worth living, its difficult not to believe this when both your parents say you are wrong all the time, but when one disagrees with another there is hope. I wish you could have given me that hope.

But I understand and I will always love you. Please stop worrying. I’ve learnt that people worry a lot because their mind wants to distract them from some-thing else in their lives. I know how difficult it is for you to face up to what happened in our family- its easier not to think about it, I know. I do the same.

I understand that you want to pretend it all never happened. And that you are happy like that. I just want you to know that I am happy where I am now too- Im sorry for trying to make you see so much, I was just trying to help. But I will never forget all you have done for me and the struggles you faced to hold us all together- it may have been a lie, but it kept us going at least…so it was worth it.

Love you always.

 

 

Narcissisus

Why I Avoid the Irritating “Entrepreneur”

The above video, “The Entrepreneur Life”- is a brilliant video encompassing the aspects of speaking to an “entrepreneur” which is irritating and frustrating yet it’s difficult to put a finger on exactly why.

Often, the “entrepreneur” in our lives is essentially being spiteful and rude, covered up by this vision they have of themselves in the future, which is usually grandiose and unrealistic but puts that person on a pedestal over every-one who has a job and works for an employer.

Its the whole message behind the “Rich Dad, Poor Dad” book by Robert Kiyosaki again. I read this book when I was a teenager and it is a thought provoking book. I don’t recommend buying it though- It waffles on but basically its major point can be summarised in – to be rich you must own the ladder, not work up it. 

Kiyosaki has a point- I will be never be richer than those who own a company. Yet, I and many of the billions of people who work around the world for an employer, don’t want to or have no desire whatsoever to own the company. Academics throughout the world- physicists, educators, doctors, philosophers, the brains of the future- many of them enjoy working for companies, for the company gives them the security  so that they can focus on their skills.

So, the problem I have with the 21st Century entrepreneur craze is the judgement they  hold for those of us who choose to work for some-one else, assuming we are lazy or have no balls.

The second annoyance I have with entrepreneurs is the need to monetise everything. I write this blog not to monetise, I write for the organisation of my own thoughts, as do many people who own a blog-hence I can put a picture of a cat on this post regardless of its lack of relevance, which I would not be able to do if my aim was for money. I also play the saxophone for no monetary interest. Speak to a “entrepreneur” – “why haven’t you monetised your blog?”- Because I don’t want to. 

The third and not final irritance of the entrepreneur is the need for it to be a “glamorous” entrepreneur. If, for example, I travelled to china and found a dealer of socks to give me a competitive price and then sold it on eBay or in a shop, I would not be considered to be a entrepreneur. Even if I invented the sock to be slightly different than other socks and sold it on Ebay, I probably wouldn’t belong in the club. If however, I desire a tech company, even if I have made no steps to attain a tech company for the last ten years, the mere fact that I desire such a company places me higher in the entrepreneurial glamour status system than others.

To summarise, for all those entrepreneurs out their who have made no money, are still  living off their parents and have been doing so for many years and spend their social life gloating to their friends in full time jobs about how free they feel, my advice to you is that no-one cares. Get yourself a job, a house, a car, a marriage, children and retire like the rest of us- it really isn’t that bad, you would not be a failure and you can actually focus on what interests you.

 

 

 

Dear My Narcissistic Father

Dear Father,

Firstly, I have to thank you…for you made me the man I am today.

But…I refuse to forsake all my positive aspects to you whilst I burden the negative.

For this is what you desire, the way your mind exists encompasses a “black and white” understanding of the world, a world where my qualities are distinguished by the superior belonging to you, whilst the inferior belongs to the lack of you, or rather… me. A world that I believed for so long and one that made me despise myself.

It is the lack of you that made me the man I am today, along with your presence.

I am grateful for the restaurant dinners once in a while, the fact that I did not have a hungry childhood, that I had warmth, shelter…games to play with. I am grateful for your presence, even though it was mainly just physical.

I am grateful that your constant criticism motivated me to get into university and the  self criticism that persisted produced my degree. Here, I struggle, for it is true that without it would I have become “successful”? My success comes from self doubt, a lack of self worth, a preference to suicide if I was not to succeed, my fear so strong that I lived my life believing I was followed by cameras, watching and criticising my every room, till I was perfect. Yet, without you, it is true, maybe I wouldn’t continue to strive for an unattainable moment of success…as for me, I am incapable of believing anything other than I will never be good enough.

I am grateful also, that you were present but distant. That you were never truly reachable. That any attempt to communicate with you led to criticism, anger or months of silence. It was this that fuelled my curiosity into you. I wondered for years who you are, what made you the way you are, how you were bought up…did you have it tough? Was that what it was? I’m not sure if you knew, but the reason why I used to ask you to walk down the street with me was not because I needed your advice. It was that I wanted to understand you. It was my inquisitiveness of you that led to my interest in psychiatry. It was the question of whether you were Aspergers or Narcissistic, the difficulties of a fit in the box diagnostic approach and the question of whether you are mad or bad or both…this was my childhood dilemma.

I still now, look forward to your invitation to dinner. For it is the brief moment that I can pretend that I am loved by you. Please continue to invite me.

Finally, I am sorry that I will always be angry with you. These are wounds from childhood…the ignored, voiceless, inner child. As a result, it becomes too painful to attend my girlfriend’s family events, because I shed a tear if I see a father play with a ball with his son. She will never understand.

Yes, it is likely that I will always remain angry with you but it has lessened over time. I have come to learn that you are who you are because you too are like me. You did not have a father when you grew up. You did not get to play, but you had it worse. You did not have the nice dinners, the money or the games to sit in your room and play with. You were raised without money. In your anger, you swore to yourself that you would raise your children better and you thought that money is love, for you had no experience of money…nor of love.

I understand this now, for I too now ultimately want to raise my children as a father who loves them, to heal what I didn’t get from you. I wonder what my children will grow up being angry at me for…it may be something that I am unaware of too.

I don’t want to be bitter, father. Or live my life in anger. It is not something that you would notice regardless, but it wouldn’t benefit me…or my future. Building the blocks of self worth on a poor foundation is painstakingly long, with relapses not uncommon, but from believing one is nothing, one can only go upwards. The utmost goal is not that of richness or “success” or other vices to stabilise an insecure ego through narcissistic grandiosity, it is instead that of wholeness and integrity.

 

 

 

 

 

Why You Should Not Become a doctor: Part 1- The Money

I’m going to slowly convince you why you should not become a doctor over a series of posts.

Why?

Because I became a doctor thinking that after five years of medical school I would be on a great salary, have some status and respect, have a secure job, girls would find me really attractive and I would live happily ever after. 

How wrong I was. 

At the time I didn’t know what being a doctor would really be like. Had I known, then maybe I wouldn’t have made the decision to go to medical school.

I want to give you the realities of medicine so that you can make your own decision with all the information available to you.

1) Becoming a doctor does NOT mean you will be rich.

Don’t get me wrong. If you are a doctor, you will not be poor.

You will certainly get your £50,000. As you go up the NHS ladder, you will get up to around £70,000 or so as a GP or consultant and then after many years if you go private it can go up to £100,000 plus.

I thought this was a good deal before I started. Now I realise I should have listened to a doctor I met at a “want to be a doctor” rip off conference I went to when I was in school, who said “There are far more easier ways to make money than being a doctor”. 

How right she was.

• To get your £50,000, you will have to do 5 years of gruelling medical school, incurring the student debt of around £45,000 minimum that this costs. Most university degrees are 3 years, so you will be already £18,000 pounds in debt compared to them and have two years less income to show for it by the time you finish. To compare, if you didn’t bother going to university, you would save five years (£45000 plus 5 years loss of income) and could work up a ladder somewhere and get to the same amount quite quickly- I know a lot of people who did just that and are much better off than I am now.

• You only get 50,000 pounds because you work insane hours. Your actual starting salary as a doctor is £22,862 (here’s the proof)- this is the income for a newly qualified doctor (I didn’t believe it neither). After five years of working as a doctor, it will rise to £34,756. That’s it. The only reason your take home will be more (1.5 times £22,862 or £34,756) is because on top of your normal 9-5 job you will be compulsorily forced to work weekends, evenings and nights. So, in ten years time when your best friend from school invites you for some drinks in London after he finishes work at a bank on a weekday, chances are you will be at work. When your friends want to book a weekend city break, chances are you will be at work. When your best friend wants to get married and you are asked to be the best man (this actually happened to me), chances are you will be at work. In fact, just assume you will be at work all the time. But you will get your £50,000 so congratulations. 

• To get your £70,000, you will have to work a minimum of another 5-6 years up another ladder after you finish 5 years of medical school. You will be right at the bottom of the ladder, meaning you will be doing all the dog work. This means weekends and nights and evenings for another five years as a minimum- a lot of doctors can’t progress to consultant level and so remain on a salary of £50,000-£70,000, doing nights, evenings and weekends for life. This means you will be doing exams till you hit your thirties (which you will have to pay for)- the same age when you will be jealous of your friends who get to spend time with their children who are growing up so fast whilst you study. You will be called a “trainee” at the age of 28, whilst your peers in other professions will be “managers” up some corporate ladder. By this time you will probably have moved house repeatedly due to having to change job location every six months. I’ve moved home three times in the last 5 years. At this point, you will still find it difficult to buy a home because you don’t know where you will be working as a consultant. So congratulations, I hope your enjoyed your twenties, but don’t worry, because you will get your £70,000.

• In your thirties, you will be a consultant if all went perfectly as you worked your way up to the ladder. By now, you will be on your £70,000. You will also be literally responsible for people’s lives- the buck completely stops with you.  You will still do your compulsory weekends, evenings and nights but that will only be a part of it. The more difficult part will be that you take your work home more than you ever did before. You will worry about your patients at night. You will pick up the phone from work at any time because you know it’s people’s lives at stake. You will fear some-one falling ill, not just because you will feel like a terrible doctor, but also because you can potentially lose your livelihood, be sued and even face criminal charges for making just one mistake at the workplace. You may buckle under the pressure but not be willing to give up as you sacrificed your whole life to get to this position. You may go on to sacrifice your own physical and mental health and your relationships with your children and family, for the sake of your career as a consultant. Congratulations, you earnt your £70,000.

So, to summarise, you will get your £50,000 – £70,000 but you will earn every penny of it with sweat and sacrifice.  If you want to be a doctor for the money, believe me, you can earn far more for far less work doing something else. 

Oh and by the way, in the current political climate, things are about to get worse.

Trump’s Press Conference: The Not So Hidden Message

Trump Speech

The Dishonest Media can not be trusted but I can. If I say they are lying, that means they are lying. 

Any allegations against me (now or ever)? – “False and Fake” information got released to the public. 

Some of the media outlets I use are fake news. Some of them are vey dishonest people

Does this remind you of Nazi Germany, folks? I don’t mean myself of course, I mean the dishonest media. From now on, if I say they are lying, that means they are lying.

But don’t worry folks….soon we will put a stop to this media. Get em out of here! 

My company is huge, I am highly successful.

My company is huge. I am highly successful. 

My company is huge. I am highly successful. 

Did I mention that I am highly successful?

I’m giving my company to my children, even though I don’t have to, for the sake of my country. Do you see how sacrificial and caring I am? 

What I support is fantastic and will be a beautiful thing. What I don’t support is a disgrace. 

Why Is My Partner So Messy?

It is so common for relationships to disintegrate over one partner being more disordered, messy or cluttered than the other.

This topic resonates with me a lot, for I am extremely messy. 

By messy, I don’t mean unclean– I shower once a day (with shampoo), clean the toilet regularly, hoover the house meticulously, wash the dishes in the dishwasher and use gloves when cleaning out the cat’s litter tray.

I am just messy in the sense that my life is disorganised. I can still function, keep a job, pay my bills on time and meet deadlines. I just tend to pick up the bills from a wad  of papers that I threw on the floor, for example, rather than from a neat folder with dividers. Or I tend to live out of a suitcase, rather than folding and organising my clothes in a cupboard.

There is an obvious distinction between cleanliness i.e hygiene, and mess i.e disorder, which I discuss in my previous article: “Am I too messy or is she too clean”. Commonly, the arguments amongst couples is not about cleanliness, but about mess.

So why am I so messy? 

Some of it, I believe, is just due to differences in what I consider to be an acceptable level of disorder, compared to others. For example, I see no problem with a disorganised coffee table. I feel that the whole point of a wooden slab in the middle of a living room is to put items onto it, not to leave it bare. I don’t believe that the only use of a coffee table is to put a coffee mug on it. I tend to read my book in front of the television, so the best position for me to place my book is on the coffee table- it is a realistic, functional use of a piece of furniture which I consider to have a functional use. My partner has a problem with this, as she feels the table has its function solely as a mantelpiece, or to temporarily position a mug of coffee (on a coaster). In my opinion, it’s hardly a suitable mantlepiece- it is not an artistic piece worthy of such status- it is just a cheap, weathered down table from Ikea- if it has no functional use, I would prefer the extra space of having no coffee table.

Whilst our difference in opinion on what constitutes acceptable mess is part of the problem, I claim that there are other reasons as to why I and so many other people are so messy. 

To understand this, I wish to bring us back to our childhoods, where our mums used to shout at us for having a messy room.

Most children clean their room at first out of fear of being grounded and losing their pocket money. Then, as they grow older, they recognise their room as their own territory and decide that they don’t want to live in mess. So they then organise their room not due to fear of punishment, but due to a desire to improve their own living standards and their own territory.

Congratulations to those children- they will live their lives as respectable, organised, clean adults.

For people like myself, this adaptation from a disorganised toddler to an organised adult failed somewhere. I  claim that this occurs due to two main reasons:

1. The Battle For Territory

As a child, my mum used to shout at me every morning to clean my room. My dad would throw all my clothes from my cupboard and my items from my desk, shout “clean it up” and walk out.

At first, such parental tactics worked– I would clean my room.

But one day, I thought to myself….”what’s the best way to get back at my parents for messing up my room.” The lightbulb moment was that I wouldn’t bother to clean it. After all, I felt that it was not technically my room– it was my parents room and my parents house. By not cleaning “my” room, I was sabotaging “their” territory, not mine. Hence, this is what gave birth to my conformability in disorganisation, making me good within my career in finding order within disorder.

Had my parents given me a key to my room during my adolescence, restricting their entry and told me “it’s “your” room, do what you want with it, we give up”, possibly my reaction at first would have been to leave it in mess, but after a period of time, I hopefully would have decided on my own accord that I don’t want to live in mess and self motivated myself to become organised.

Hence, we come to the Battle for Territory. Animals mark their territory by urinating or defecating every-where. Adolescents do it by placing their items in places around the house. Girlfriends worried that their boyfriend is cheating on them do it by leaving a box of tampons in the bathroom, and so on.

Any parent who’s reading this who struggles with their messy adolescent, try respecting the boundary of their room and encouraging the adolescent to believe it is “their” territory, not yours. You may find that they choose on their own not to sabotage their own territory when they feel it is not under threat by others, hence minimising the need to mark their territory with their own mess.

2. Re-enacting Childhood

Even if in my case as in so many others there was a battle for territory, a need for freedom of expression and independence which led to a messy room in adolescence, why did it continue on into adulthood with my partner? Surely, as a grown man now with my own house, I have no need to mark my territory with mess. There are probably more mature ways of making myself feel like I own my house, by paying my mortgage for example and by actually owning my own house.

Why is it that my partner has now become like my mum, shouting and nagging at me constantly to clean my room?

I believe that the reason for this is within our need to re-enact our childhood traumas through our present relationships, a dynamic that is described well in a video from the School Of life. 

For me, I understand now that I create mess not just to mark my territory or due to finding my level of mess acceptable.

I also now understand that I create my mess because paradoxically, I unconsciously miss my parents shouting at me about mess. It is an engrained trauma by which my understanding of love and affection is in part by my mum screaming at me to put my socks in the washing machine. It is my childhood method of attention seeking and rebellion manifesting as an adult. It is of no surprise then that I find myself attracted to obsessive clean- freaks, for they are vulnerable to allowing my projections of disorganisation to affect them, creating the counter-transference of anger and annoyance that I seek a reaction from to feel like I am loved again.

“True love is finding someone whose demons play well with yours” – The Joker”
― The Joker Batman Arkham City

So as we wonder whether our partner is so messy to deliberately wind us up, we can take solace in the knowledge that this may literally be the case. I doubt that these insights will stop a couple from fighting but may help understand why it is they are fighting and why something so small as a misplaced book on a coffee table may be such a touchy, argument provoking subject.

Why Our Partner Is So Much Like Our Parent

I really like this video.

It demonstrates well the link between our choice of partner and our understanding of love and affection from our relationship with our parents.

It tells us how we re-inact our past within our current relationships, where we either “seek out the fault of a parent in a partner, or mimic a fault of a parent in a partner”. 

Very relevant for those of us who have been in an unstable relationship….and wonder why we keep attracting abusive, unstable relationships within our lives.

On a more positive note…Happy New Year!