tip-toes.

As I trailed along Market Street down to Deansgate, my mind provoked with thundering thoughts and unanswered questions, the MEN newspaper man handed me a copy and I smiled, a soft unhearty smile – one of which only an unemployed graduate will bear, i heaved a small sigh and walked out, he greeted me goodbye with a ‘Have a good day you love!’. His teeth was stained, yellow, almost black, his hair was greasy, and his fingers were tainted with black charcoaled dirt. Yet, he was happy, yet he was determined to find a job, even as a newspaper man.

Then, I gazed dreamily down the cobbled-stones street of Manchester – probably the busiest street of all day, people trafficking your way, mothers with pram, men in suit, women in heels, Manc-scullys (what we call them) in Ugg boots-look-alike, kids with ice-cream and those random Chinese people shouting their way through a conversation, plus you hear the occasion Big Issue sellers yelling ‘Big Issue!’ and there I was wandering and wondering my life away. Amidst the noisy street, I could only hear words of disgrace and wrath towards myself in my head. The devil was speaking.
Another kind man approached me and shoved a ‘Big Issue’ magazine to me, I shook my head – he smiled ‘Have a nice day love!‘. He gritted his teeth and he does not have the front four teeth – he was scrawny and gaunt – probably on coke, i reckon.

I looked at myself, clad in a Zara jacket, Zara bag, crisp white Zara shirt with a pleated skirt, black tights in Vincci heels and my face was sewn in gloom. But underneath the sad face, I was powdered with Lancome serum, Derma moisturiser, Stila sunscreen, Lancome foundation, Lancome mascara, Lancome blusher, wearing Gucci perfume – and why am i moaning my life away when I possibly have everything and the best of all to me, compared to kids in Burma, the dead in China? The men down the street?

If a Big Issue man, if a MEN Newspaper man can get jobs, why can’t I?

Afterall, I am a graduate, 22 years old, with a fluorescent CV, slightly experienced – amazing interpersonal skills. I should be grateful, thankful for all the things. But I am not.

Why?