Word count is one so it says under my Publish Status in WordPress, however I hadn’t typed a word. It caused the catalyst to type these words, words about nothing except a word count and that in itself is merely a pseudo word count because the words themselves are gibberish. Not worth the pixels they are written on. 50. 58. Up they go. Like seconds on a clock. Tick. Tick. Tick. 61. 69. Delay. Enough!

Onto something serious but what? I’m over the credit crunch and the financial crisis. We all know the outcome and it’s depressing. Depression is something I know a little about but it is hardly worth extrapolating into a 2000 word diatribe over. The world will soon embrace the dark eyes of greed, sucking the world dry of its fiscal prowess and we’ll all be hovering around the soup kitchen awaiting our daily bread but even that is not assured.

Although I said I was over the credit crunch my mind keeps returning to it. It’s kind of hard not to be enveloped in its implications when the media keeps the sensation alive. I’m probably alone in my obsession with control, I just can’t relinquish my love of certainty and it’s difficult to make a clear decision with my limited funds without certainty. My fear tells me to withdraw my savings and put it under my mattress because whose to say that all banks aren’t going to collapse with all these fraudulent loans in circulation. I have shares in my superannuation fund but that is money I’m unlikely ever to see anyway. Then when I think about it, if all the banks go under then what does it matter anyway? Money won’t mean a thing and even though I’ve half heartedly commented in previous posts that it is meaningless, I never thought we were all to become acquainted with the worthlessness of the piece of paper it is written on. Once the banks all go bust and all our savings dissipate into the ether then what conclusions are we to draw by this manufactured entity. It’s created from nothing and to whence it shall return.

I’m probably being influenced by Zeitgeist: Addendum that I watched last night but it suits my gloomy outlook on times to come. Whose to say that the movie isn’t a true depiction of the financial system and just because I’m not an expert in economic matters doesn’t mean I can’t be indoctrinated with the best of em. Although the true believers of the system will undoubtedly scoff at such alternative views it sort of clarifies why we are in such a mess. All this time I thought that there was this vault of money in actual existence, but as it turns out there is no vault filled with money, that in truth the money that exists in the system is just a paper trail of loans after loans of credits that in reality don’t exist. It is all created out of thin air at the whim of the reserve. I couldn’t understand why these major banks were going bust but after watching Zeitgeist 2 and being informed of that the monetary system is debt, has clarified the whole dilemma for me.

At least now I’m more initimate with why I’m a slave.

Looks like it may be the end times for this place of residence. The owner has decided to sell and as a consequence I’m living in some limbo land…how I hate renting. One is never truly sure when the landlord will turf you out. I wish now that I didn’t spend so much over the last year, I might be in a better position to buy, although if I asked the banks I’m sure they’ll be more than too happy to loan me a couple of hundred grand. But is that what I really want? It seems like a heavy commitment, one which I’m averse to for some reason. I want somewhere I can secure myself in without worrying about when I’ll have to leave or when real estate leeches will come to have a sticky beak but at the same time I don’t want to be tied down to something for twenty years. Well nothing is certain or absolute, instead of real estate agents it’ll be banks so the only real advantage to having a mortgage is the false sense of security that it buys.

I worry perhaps a little too much, for all I know it’ll sell and the new owner will have a ready made tenant. At worst…I have to find a new place to live. My laziness screams and squirms at the prospect of having to pack up shop. Outrage! “How dare they sell our home!” it screams into the empty caverns of a lonesome void.

Every time I think of the prospect of having to move I’m filled with a sense of dread and anger. It’s just too melodramatic and in the end it’s just tough shit! Get over it. “But Ma I don’t want to leave.” “Stop it…you’re just gonna have to whether you like it or not!” “Awww Maaa…Maaa. Ma!”

But then again this place is a dump and I must be crazy for staying this long.

Just can’t win can I?

</ end rant>