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Voice of unemployed youths in Afghanistan

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Voice of unemployed youths in Afghanistan



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How do you deal with not finding a job?nnNo matter your job search scenario, you can overcome job search anxiety and find your path to nsuccess by following a few suggestions.nMaintain Your Perspective. ...nStay Positive. ...nMake a Plan. ...nDo Some Homework. ...nRemind Yourself It's a Process. ...nGive Yourself a Pep Talk. ...nSavor Your Wins. ...nDecide What Has to be Done—and What Doesn't.


Asad PaiwandnOmt7Sctouber2 6 atm1lnso 960:f41 AM · nIf the cricket team is not allowed to play under the national flag, everyone should resign to protect national values.nTheir love for national values will be known.n · ·


Humans of New York nFavorites · tSe3osoh · n“I saw this story about a herd of adolescent male elephants in Africa. They were running wild, killing everything. The scientists found out it was because all the adult male elephants had been poached. And I guess that’s sorta what happened to me. My father got shot in the head on 51st street when I was nine, and it turned me into a ‘fuck the world’ kinda kid. Lots of drinking. Lots of fighting. I broke my hand six different times. But part of me was always artistically inclined. As a teenager I got hold of a tattoo magazine. There weren’t any shops back then. So you had to learn the hard way. I started with my legs, which is why I never wear shorts. But eventually I covered my whole body. The image was never important. I was just looking to fill space. Tattoos turned me into something else. A guy not to mess with. They ostracized me, and I enjoyed that. It made feel like I had a worth. A dark worth, but a worth. I ended up getting a job at a clandestine shop in the Bronx. For years I was making $1200 a night, cash. All of it would be gone by morning. We’d get off at midnight and rip up the bars. I paid the tabs: always the best alcohol, always the best food. There was never a want or a need. But I never went home. There was nothing to go home to. These days when people ask me to take off my shirt, I won’t do it. I hate showing my tattoos. I’ve been stared at since I was eighteen. Back then it was the reaction I wanted. But I’ve gotten it every day since, and it’s getting old. You can only go to jail so many times. You can only be with so many strippers, until you’re beat up and busted. I’m 51 years old. Never married. No kids. Though I will say that I’ve always been conscious of God. Even in Rikers I went to mass. I’d be a priest if I could do it all over again. I wish I could wipe it all clean. Maybe I could have helped people. There’s a lot of hurting souls out there, like me. People don’t realize how fortunate they are to just have an average life: going home to a family, having someone to talk to, knowing kids will be around. That’s something that lasts. All the money and women I’ve had— there’s nothing to show for them. Except a bunch of tattoos.”


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