Just another day in the office. — Personal
Working within the bowels of Corporate America for the past six years has made me realize just what kind of people I don't understand. It has also made me realize just what kind of person I am not, and will never be. I'm coming to that point in my life where I can no longer force myself to give a shit one way or the other about some Company's success or failure. I could care less about people "making their numbers" or "pleasing the customer" or "having a profitable fiscal year". I no longer care about dress codes, social conduct, being punctual, or proving my worth. It's not because I don't want to succeed in what I do for a living, or that I'm lazy or rebellious, but it's because all of those things are for somebody else. I'm certainly not putting on my black blazer FOR ME. Or getting up at 7:00AM because I think it's the absolute perfect time to start my day. It's starting to get old, the life I call my own being dedicated to doing something I find absolutely no value in.
Today I looked in the elevator mirror on my way up to the 11th floor and I was saddened by what I saw. I looked tired. And not the kind of tired that has resulted from an evening of reading Stephen King until 1:30AM, no, the kind of tired that has resulted in stuffing myself into a mold in order to go to work everyday. It's the tired that comes from feeling bad every single morning because you just don't feel like returning the friendly "good morning" to the man at the front desk of your office building. It's the kind of tired you get when you get dressed in the morning and you look at your jeans with longing and sadly push them aside to get to your bland and tired slacks. It's the tired that doesn't see the sky all day and sits in front of a computer all the live long year.
It's almost time to make something else happen. I don't know what yet, and I'm not sure exactly when, but I can feel it surfacing. I can feel my soul quietly yet forcibly cursing and sharpening the blades that will be used to cut its way out of this mold and set itself fucking free again.
Once upon a time in the old West when only the Indiginous people roamed the land hunting and gathering, there was a flash of White, Caucasions if you will. Occasionally they would cross the path of the Native and would be forever theirs. Again on occasion there would be a White suiter come into the Indian encampment and want to take the captured intruder back to "civilization" and upon that concideration the capitive would refuse, not wanting to re-enter the world of the hustle and bustle but remain in the land of natural things.
Remember whence you have come.
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