The Anger that Is For Ever Burning My Soul

My problem—it's difficult to talk about without sounding crazy (and I've been through the whole set of tests verifying that 'I'm not crazy unless I choose to be crazy,' but don't I deserve to be a little crazier sometimes?),

but I feel that "Just A Gigolo / I Ain't Got Nobody" on VILLAGE PEOPLE LYRICS (by The Village People? Louis Armstrong? David Lee Roth? Louis Prima? Lou Bega?) expresses something somewhere-near my situation (I couldn't find it on MusicJesus ... maybe I'll look for it on YouTube and/or perform it a cappella there, but for now let's look at the lyrics):

Medley: Just A Gigolo / I Ain't Got Nobody"

I'm just a gigolo
And everywhere I go
People know the part I'm playing
Pay for ev'ry dance
Selling each romance
Oh what they're sayin'

And there will come a day
When youth will pass away
What will they say about me
When the end comes I know
They'll say just a gigollo
Life goes on without me

I'm just a gigollo
And everywhere I go
People know the part I'm playing
Pay for ev'ry dance
Selling each romance
Oh what they're sayin'

And there will come a day
When youth will pass away
Well well well well well
What will they say about me
When the end comes I know
They'll say just a gigollo
Life goes on without me

Cause I ain't got nobody
Well it's - uh - nobody cares for me
There's nobody cares for me
Cause I'm so sad and lonely
Sad and lonely, sad and lonely
Won't some sweet mamma come take a chance with me
Cause I ain't so bad

And I'll sing her sweet love songs
All of the time
Hey, she'll only be,
Only be
The one and only one for me

Cause I ain't got nobody
And it's - uh - nobody cares for me
There's nobody cares for me
Nobody cares for me
There's nobody cares for me
Nobody cares for me
There's nobody cares for me

I'm just a gigollo
And everywhere I go
People know the part I'm playing
Pay for ev'ry dance
Selling each romance
Oh what they're sayin'

And there will come a day
When youth will pass away
Well well well well well
What will they say about me
When the end comes I know
They'll say just a gigollo
Life goes on without me

Cause I ain't got nobody
And it's - uh - nobody cares for me
There's nobody cares for me
Cause I'm so sad and lonely
Won't some sweet mamma
Come and take a chance with me
Cause I ain't so bad

Hey

And I'll sing her sweet love songs
All of the time
Hey
She'll only be,
Only be
Sugar
Honey
Darling
Mamma

I
Ain't
Got
No
Body

Hey

And it's - uh - nobody (nobody)
No nobody (nobody)
No one (no one)
No no no one (no one)
Loop de loop (Loop de loop)
Sugar sugar (sugar sugar)
Godess godess (godess godess)
Girly girly (girly girly)

Nobody (nobody)
Oh yeah (oh yeah)
Nobody (nobody)
No no one (no one)

'via Blog this'

What the 'anger that burns me' is, is the reason I have to be a 'gigolo' (not exactly the 'sex in exchange for food-and-shelter'-type, but more like a euphemism for 'one who seems to exist for no real reason, and any reason they do exist is purely "extra" and no one will lose something they need when the one is gone').

And yes, the reason I have to be a 'gigolo' is because "I ain't got nobody"—oh, I have people who I am eternally grateful-for who take care of things that need to be handled for me; but they've got me, while I've got nobody ... nobody that depends on me!

I think of my brother-in-law–who has an MBA, plenty of upper-management experience–who just got laid-off (with a sizable severance package, but still) from GameStop—they were closing his store, and didn't have any suitable positions for him anywhere else in the city (I suppose; I could be guessing at this by deduction from what I've heard around the Facebook-sphere).

If he didn't have my sister and my two nieces to support (forget for the moment that they all live with my mom and that she and my sister have paying-employment), he wouldn't have quite the drive that would be necessary to get a new job.

Then I look back at me. The little job I had years ago, I lost because I lacked the drive necessary to keep it (although you could say it was because of my bad behavior, I could counter with the fact that my behavior was under-control enough to get the job and -with the probable possibility that I could have kept it under control if I'd had the drive to keep the job).

Oh, if anybody cared I'm sure some psychologist could chalk it up to some Napoleon Complex, could prescribe me heavy dosage of happy-pills and could instruct my people to leave me locked in some loony-bin, happily doped beyond knowing that I'm in a strait-jacket and dumpy-diapers for as long as some insurance-company is paying.

But that's not what I want. What I want starts with somebody who cares enough to see what I actually am doing and who goes on to 'need' me to do that and to of course pass that on to their friends, who also 'need' me to do that and to pass that on to their friends, etc.

What am I doing? You will know when you care