Confession of a Parasitic

Days ago, the chairman of the Kosovo Assembly made a strong statement against a large number of unemployed people [or even with bad work]. He said: “Kosovo does not like parasites complaining, but new entrepreneurs”.

Before I resumed work in Periscope, I was unemployed for almost a year. I took some money from two blogs where I wrote, but that very rarely amounted to 150 euros in total. For months I lived with only 80. So, two and a half euros per day.

I was a parasite but not so ordinary. I didn't complain. Or I would rarely do that when my words proved to be violent. Or I wrote a scripture like this. That was how I had chosen to be guarded by my freedom of independence as an individual. I mentally looked for work, sometimes in circumstances that stirred up hope - sometimes that completely satisfied me. Suppose, in the only place [I remember] for work where I applied with CV and motivation, in a tight portal, with a hundred-two spelling mistakes in a hundred and ten words. I counted them, but I don't rule out the possibility of being mistaken for a while. When you're a parasite, when you don't have what you're doing, you better get the door they say. I stayed up all day happy and read. Twenty hours. I rarely went out with a friend but sharpened my memory of times when we had to pay. One of them broke up with me because he called me five times and I found excuses to get rid of him. Why? Because every time we went out, he paid for it because I couldn't get there. One beer I could pay for, but no more than that.

During that time, I became so depressed that I lost 20 pounds. Three four days ' sleep came, I ate nothing for three days. I used to live dogs and I couldn't see a way out of that door. To be honest, that's where I found out how disgusting most of society was. Nobody did. Going on the street with upset faces was like committing a sin. People knew my despair only by looking at me, and they knew it intuitively. And it seems that when depression was becoming a reputation when the forces died, people avoided me. So I guess there's a lot of parasites out there complaining, because complaining in itself requires a lot of energy. Energy just wants to pretend you're okay or wear a boring mask.

But I kept myself alive. I would rise every day in the morning and wash my eyes. Imagine that! I was hoping something would change. But I didn't rely entirely on fate. I made great efforts to change things. I wrote in the name of someone who gave me money. I went out with a quarter or a half apiece who wanted to hire me somewhere. I went to master's speeches. I kept myself. Then it was time to pay the semester, and I failed. I quit all that work.

I guess the other complainers have stories far worse. Someone can't even stand, complain. He makes the poor words out of his mouth. Statistics say there are 60 percent of Kosovo youth unemployed. So 60 percent of young people are parasites.

But even as a parasite, you can preserve your dignity. Suppose, as a former parasite working at this portal, I received an offer to work for the prime minister and to receive a three - fold salary. I refused! And I get the right to take pride in that.

Why, though, did Wessel muster up the courage to make such a big insult?

He fears that large number. He is simply pained by the image of all that complaint gathered together that could cause even more serious electoral consequences in the upcoming elections for his party. He is part of a party that has corrupted the production scheme, which has opened universities that do not qualify, which has built a clientilism that is already affecting its borders.

Being in the last range of its existence, The PDK has only remained to moralize! Morthal is a weakness, not another expression!