Hello everyone I'm Jervis I wan to say nothing

Anya and Kai: The Last Scavengers

  Sure, here is a story I wrote: The year is 2042. The world is a very different place than it was just a few decades ago. Climate change has caused widespread devastation, and many major cities have been abandoned. The global economy has collapsed, and there is widespread poverty and hunger. In this new world, a new kind of hero has emerged: the scavenger. Scavengers are people who travel from place to place, searching for anything of value that can be traded or sold. They are often seen as dangerous and unpredictable, but they are also essential to the survival of those who live in the ruins of the old world. One such scavenger is a young woman named Anya. Anya is tough and resourceful, and she has learned to survive in a world that is often hostile to those who are not strong enough. She has also learned to trust her instincts, and she knows that sometimes the only way to survive is to be willing to take risks. One day, Anya is scavenging in an abandoned warehouse when she finds a s

Are You Really Poor or Are You Playing Poor?

Are You Really Poor or Are You Playing Poor?

I was conveying packs fairly well through my course as a messenger. Packs slid around the discretionary parlour of my vehicle as I turned a sharp corner. My telephone rang, bah moving beyond the vehicle speakers.


What the f*ck is happening? I fundamentally needed to complete my working day and get back.


"Hi?"


"Hello James, How are you? " communicated a voice from the speakers.


I felt a sense of disappointment. Nobody, however, sounds as fake cheerful as decision delegates calling to pitch you a task you shouldn't, for even a moment, mess around with.


I chose to leave corporate work after my sheer horridness in Walk 2020 as the pandemic held up into view. I despised it so much that I vowed never to return, regardless of how unbelievable it became.


I was out. Fuck the tiled channels, agitated chiefs, and steady office plans.


"We saw your CV on..." the metallic voice said through the speakers, making him sound like an empowered Dalek.


I quit tuning in. I realised my CV was out there, drifting around work objections from God knows when. The spotter gave his all effort to sell something. Yadda-f*cking-yadda.


I finished him.


I couldn't say whether I'd try working in a corporate office again.


He fumbled somewhat, but was met with new legitimacy.


"Notwithstanding, er, that is my issue, so go on," I added, encountering a glimmer of compassion toward the enthusiastic decision delegate fundamentally managing his business.


He proceeded. It was an endeavor; the bosses work for a bank. It sounded shocking. In any case, he said it was "far off work" by then. Absolutely remote. There was no office, no drive, and especially no board rooms crammed with steely, vigorous eyes peering into me. Then, he said, it's impermanent work. 90 days. No lengthy commitment and no getting found out.


OK, this wasn't precisely as extraordinarily awful as I had at first suspected.


Furthermore, some time later, he said the day rate. It was foul... A remarkable extent of cash


"Is that alright?" he asked subtly.


"Emergency room, without a doubt, that is all fine," I answered directly, momentarily ending.


How much? How much? How friggin’ much?!


I'd get in 3 days what I've, at this point, gotten in a month.


Is this my market rate? I never realised I could demand so much. 19 years in the corporate world might have felt like a waste, yet as I found, it suggested I could require gobs of money. Believe it or not, rising above bucks,


Reality hit me like a wet fish around the face.


Goodness.


Surprisingly, the people I worked with in the vehicles and the people I saw at the shop as the day progressed were far more important to me than anything else I was exposed to at the time. These improvement drivers were scratching by on pennies with two, maybe three positions. They would kill to get the sort of money I had. I was really exceptional. Likewise, I was fairly close to turning it down out of choice.


I startlingly felt spoiled. I don't have even the remotest hint why. I've never lived on presents. I've regularly overseen myself; I directed school, self-kept up with, I took out bank credits to cover my most fundamental wedding, I lived on an extreme spending plan all through my twenties, enthusiastically brought down and got myself freed from that obligation.


Yet again, I've been poor, and right then, in my vehicle enveloped by gatherings, I was poor. Regardless, my issue with everything is that the world is stacked with people doing battle just to deal with the expense of food or rent, and startlingly, I felt as if I was "playing poor."


It hit me hard.


In the blink of an eye I’d gone from hard-grafter on a journey of self-discovery to ungrateful, perhaps even selfish, idiot.


That drop set off a flood of sentiments that at last drove me back to the corporate world. I had a family to help; kids, a friend, canines, felines, and a home.


Pandora's case had been opened and I could close it.


How long might I have worked as a reevaluation in genuine work occupations, framing, and video altering, anticipating that if I just attempted to take action, I would be able to stop wasting time and money?


I went to Accomplices for counsel. They generally say to take the cash. However, that is on the grounds that an enormous number of them were by then knee-somewhere down in corporate sand traps and would like me to oblige them in their weariness.


Satan reviews that you should tone down since he is out there too. Frustrated people will, if all else fails, push down everyone around them. Regardless, it's anything but a solid area for them.


If all else fails, there is reliably a split difference to be had. Take the necessary steps not to bargain in absolutes; it will cloud your judgment.


The work I got was absolutely remote and, marvelously, I like it. I haven't respected an endeavour in years. Long may it last.


 Regardless, on the off chance that it doesn't, I can leave. Nobody is caught in a circumstance, whether it seems like it or not. A delicate step out No request won't be clear, yet it is unremittingly key. Once more, you pick. You offer it one more opportunity.


I've never liked giving up dreams for money (what model does that set for young people? ), but I'm a part of a "third way."


Of late, a friend let me in on his arrangement to open a record shop. At the point when I asked about the watchman, he was befuddled. He essentially needed to make some portion from his persevering life, which, in my book, isn't inspiration with the consequence of beginning an endeavor. One should be large and in charge prior to thinking about significant changes. Your characteristics should concur with your objectives and necessities, or more than likely, you're on some denied course and should grapple with it for a long time.


Being creative is one of my key skills. In any case, having a surprising, large family home meandering aimlessly outside while being engulfed by a financial flood is a nightmare. I've required cash for a really long time in light of the fact that my life as a youngster was scourged by disturbance. Individuals say cash and inventiveness don't blend, that these two things are totally against one another, and maybe they're right, as I haven't made it work yet. Notwithstanding, life isn't basically pulling out, so don't imagine that way in the meantime.


I don't have any replies. They say a man can't stay in an uncleared stream twice because it's always moving. Additionally, the man himself changes after some time. Everything is gone, yet we feel our way through, sense what may be best in our trustworthy circumstances, and focus on nature.

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