It's an isolated spot, The Stool. Somewhere between reproach and
respect. But when the waves are crashing on me and my head is nearly beneath
the water, hands appear through the darkness to pull me back up.
I haven't been dragged too far from the rising tide or the winds
that are whipping the waves into such a frenzy. But far enough at least, to
breathe.
The crabs of bureaucracy continue to nip at my toes and may still
end up devouring my corpse. But I have provisions to last me the weekend.
Hunter Thompson wrote in his dedication for the first book he had
published, Hell's Angels. He recognised his friends for ‘keeping
him mercifully unemployed’. I must agree with him. While I look for work
and occasionally find it, my friends and family are the ones who keep me
afloat, or maybe even dry for a period of time.
I couldn’t count the number of people who have cooked me meals out
of sympathy or lent me money that they know will take me a long time to balance
the books.
There is very little I can do except pay them back when I am able.
Apparently, I’m not a shit cook, but proving that relies on people coming up The Hill to my place in order to appreciate my alleged talent and therefore, renege
on my debts.
Cash comes in periodically thanks to the less than adequate social
security system that exists in Australia.
I am not bemoaning the privilege I have that allows me to access
such a system, I am criticising the manner in which the system is managed.
Roughly seven years ago I signed a six month lease with my then
partner. At the end of that lease she moved out and I became the sole resident.
On the basis of a conversation with the property manager I was left under the
assumption that I would be free to rent the second room to anyone I approved
of.
This apparently is not the case. I am unaware as to whether or not
this policy is law or if it is simply an oddity unique to my agent.
Regardless, I have found myself with a reduced rent assistance
allowance and been asked to prove that the amount of rent I was paying seven
years ago hasn’t changed.
If anything, under a Turnbull Government, I should expect a letter
of congratulations on avoiding The Property Crisis by not fucking my landlord
over and having my rent increased. Instead I am forced to plead my case to stave
off an overbearing system that should have the welfare of its charges as its
primary purpose of providing care for those who are most in need of such.
But beyond that, I have
my people. Those who are willing to pick me up when I am at my lowest point. It’s
disappointing that this is the case, but it is what we have to deal with and
aside from complaining there isn’t much that anyone can do about it.
