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.
Lights In The Sky 