Nov 21, 2012 21:13
I fear the reduction of my life into work. It is simple work and it is that about it which bothers me I think. Yes, the hardest part about my work is its simplicity.
The building is large enough for a great amount of merchandise, but my dreams beat against the walls on all sides. I don't intend to remember them while I am there each day, fearing that I might leave them on a shelf I am restocking with things; misplacing their value for a price tag. Yet, somehow they always seem to lag behind me as I leave each day. And like a stray hair that may fall to the floor and get swept up with the dust every night, that residue of my dream is ushered along the concrete floor and into a dumpster, never to be reclaimed.
I fear my whole self is encapsulated in 'Hello, how are you today?' and that my merit is shown by how many people sign up for my company's emails.