(no subject)
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.
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.