Today Feels hollow (Caution; expletives)

Today feels…
Well…
It actually feels empty. It feels like there’s something missing, like something is just…not there, or out of place. I’ve gone through my normal routine, but it just feels broken. I know that’s a weird way to say it; but it’s how it is. I’m sitting here at my desk like every other Monday, but I don’t feel all here. My body is physically present, but my mind is wandering around elsewhere.

Do you want to know the truth? I’m not happy working a desk job. I went to college for 4 years (going on 6) to get a degree in a field that is office work. I did so because I was told that it’s what I was SUPPOSED to do. Why is it what I was supposed to do? Because if I didn’t go to school and get a degree and go spend 1/3 of every weekday giving my time to a company that wouldn’t care if I disappeared from the face of the Earth, I’d be considered lazy. If I didn’t sign up to be a lackey for the higher ups, to be walked on, to be a floor-mat for other people, then I’d be wasting my time. I had to get a job making an average amount of money so I could drive an average car, pay money to rent an average place to live and do average things long enough to have average kids then buy an average house so my average kids have an average yard to play in that I’ll have to mow every Saturday during the summer at approximately 11:30 AM. I have to be average. I have to keep up with the Jones’ and make sure that I have at least one flashy thing to show off to everyone, all the while barely surviving off the low-balled income that the company offered me, knowing I’d take it because the market is being saturated. I have to be like everyone else, because it’s how it’s always been and If I exit the norm then I’m lazy or selfish and bound to fail.

Welcome to the reasoning behind my fear of trying anything, my fear of failure, and thus my fear of success. I cannot STAND this job. I hate my Degree, I hate this industry, I hate my boss and I hate my coworkers. I don’t want to own a house, I like renting a smaller place. I don’t want to get married, I like just being with my partner on our terms. I don’t want kids, I have no intention on ever having miniature hellions to take care of. You know what, I am Selfish. I am selfish to the extent that I want to live my life on my terms. Fuck your average, fuck your normal, and fuck anyone who tells me that I’m self-centered or lazy. As I sit here at my desk typing this, I feel miserable as hell. I want to burst into tears, I want to fall over and never get up and I want to just say Fuck everything and get in line with every other assimilated asshole. Is that normal? Should I feel like dying at all times? If so, then,  again, FUCK YOUR NORMAL.

I am not a number, I am not a job title, I am not your fucking doormat.

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Hello Friends!

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My Greatest Fear

I’ve been told that I control my own happiness, and while I agree that I hold the reins, there are a billion different factors that are controlling the direction of the horse. I’ve realized I’m not going to be happy no matter what I do. I’m not miserable because I dislike my manager or my job, I’m miserable because the office environment is not who I am. Sitting here every day from 8:30AM to 5:00PM is tearing me apart. I don’t work the whole time I’m here because I can’t focus on it at all. I have an undying fear of monotony driving me into a “comfortable” position to the point of me ending up like all the other miserable people who work like damn robots. No sense of sled, just doing and never stopping.

I am not a machine! I am not a line worker! I am not someone’s slave that can be told to jump and ask how high. I can do the work that I’m assigned, I just don’t because of the monotony. I don’t want to work for the sake of working, I want to work to achieve, to accomplish, to inform and to proliferate the accomplishments made by myself and my family. I am not designed for this desk work. I cannot live with doing my job for 8 hours only to have the work be done for those 8 hours, and have to do it all again in 12. I don’t want to work to finish my pile of papers for the day. I want to work and see what I actually accomplished. What did I create? What did my time bring into fruition? This is why I want to be a writer. It can be a struggle, but every day end with any number of words drafted and organized in a manner that has never been done or even considered.

I know it’s time for me to move on…but…I can’t. I have to, but I’m unable. I’m deathly afraid of the failure, of trying in general. Every attempt is lined with uncertainty and doubt, as well as the fear of letting everyone down. This is the intellect in me, it’s not logical to take a leap of faith, to jump in with both feet. This is the reason I’m not married, don’t have/want kids, still live close to where I was born, etc…

This is what’s so wrong with me…. I desperately crave certainty, consistency and structure, but despise monotony. There’s no forgetting logic for me, there’s no forgetting the other people, because logic and those I love are my consistency, my structure, and my safety net. I cannot seem to break down my own structure, I’ve tried and tried, and I always end up building the walls again. The walls that have always held me safe. But safe doesn’t make me happy. Sage makes me miserable. Safe is what makes me choke back the pain and smile. Safe is what makes me tell everyone that everything will be alright, but makes me to where I cannot stand hearing it from others. I know how plastic the words can be, and I always assume they are…

I want nothing more than to wake up one day, and just live. I don’t want to end up merely existing on this Earth. The time I have is limited, and while I may be on the low-end of the scale, there’s still an end. That end is a certainty, not a possibility. I don’t want to mechanically do anything for my whole life and look back regretfully. That’s my biggest fear; looking back when I’m old and just…wishing I’d done more. The problem is, I apply that fear to my life now, and I’m heading down that path…

Sincerely,
A lost soul that watches the stars, attempting to connect the dots for an answer.

Away for way too long

It feels like forever since you and I last spoke. It looks like I last posted in September…now how have I managed to be away from my lovely Lights in the Sky for sooooo long?

Anyways, let’s talk.

I’m feeling better. Since we last spoke I’ve had 2 mental breaks. 2 in almost 5 months. That’s good for me! One of them was just me being…well…me. I have zero-tolerance for stupidity, and unfortunately I was met with what I thought to be stupidity. It lashed out, I exploded, then I left the scene for a bit. It was what had to happen. I had to walk away from the stress, no matter how much I didn’t want to. Driving in the snow is a fantastic way to gather your thoughts, even if it’s just a few blocks and back. The other time…ooooh the other time. It wasn’t my fault; the stresses of life gathered themselves upon me and decided that I needed to be kicked repeatedly. I think I’ll be OK though. I hope I’ll be OK. If not…well that’s a bridge I’ll have to cross later.

I have been trying to work on a few things as of late. First and foremost, I want to stop myself from holding on to things. I want to be able to let go of things as I need. These can be physical, emotional, or any combination of the two. I tend to keep my grip on things that I love, and on things that affect me. My physical connections typically manifest themselves in a messy house. My emotional ones manifest in dreams, and oh how I hate these dreams. I had one last night that I don’t want to really talk about, but it was… well… it just was. It hurt. I woke up from it and found myself dwelling on it all morning. It involved my past, and I hate my past. The person I was prior to being the person I am now is someone that I wish I never was. Regardless, I dismissed it after a while, but it keeps flashing into my mind randomly and bumming me out. I wish my memory worked in a manner that would allow me to just delete it, but alas, I can’t.

The next thing I’ve been working on is my habit of worrying about the future. Being in my early/mid twenties I’ve found that I worry about what’s going to happen in the future. Be it debt, death, or anything lined in a thick layer of uncertainty, I tend to let the preparation of said events take over my life. There was a point in my life where I consistently told myself that “Right now is all that matters”. As I’ve slipped into my twenties I’ve found that I no longer can live by that philosophy.

Regardless… I’m going to go home now. I’m going to spend my night, not dwelling, and not worrying about the future…

Until Next Time!
TheWriter