I seem to care about politics. I ask what party policies are. I vote. I joined a political party. I campaign, I tell other people what is happening. I write to my MP. When that doesn’t work I protest. I write about it all here. But at the end of it all, after two years of this disgusting inhuman government, after so much effort, all the bad things I’ve been shouting about happen anyway. The bills go through. Maybe a tiny fraction less bad than they would have been without the input of campaigners.
What’s the point? What’s the point of caring? I wish I didn’t care. I wish I could just stop worrying about it and ignore all the shit until it affects me personally, just like all the other shitty selfish humans beings out there. All the pathetic people cocooned in their bubble of mindless TV and expensive possessions bought on credit. The ones who won’t care until five or ten years later when they can’t get support while they are sick, and they have to wait an extra year for treatment because their hospital is busy with paying patients, and the treatment is useless when they get it because all the money went on shareholder profits. When the schools are all business-owned academies and focussed on turning out brainwashed corporate drones. When only the rich can afford to go to university, and therefore to get any jobs with power. When every road is either a toll road or a beaten up dirt track. When the police won’t help you because they’re busy investigating what their private owners have decided is a higher priority, or beating up anyone who dares to protest. When claiming job seekers allowance means becoming the property of some private company, who sell you to some other private company to do hard work for next to no income.
Why the fuck should I care then? Most of the population haven’t even noticed, and now that it’s all going through, AFTER we’ve been protesting for more than a year, THEN some of them might go out and protest? “It worked for the poll tax” people say. Yes, people protested because they were charged money! You think they even know what’s going on until their dad fails to get surgery in time and dies?
I want out. I want to stop bloody caring. I want a lobotomy, or some mind-killing drugs. Something. Anything. Because all those people are shit and they deserve what they’re about to get and I wish that meant nothing to me.