November 26th, 2007 at 9:33 pm
It’s fun to pretend…
…some of the time.
I am tired of existing as two people, of wearing masks, of keeping up appearances. I want to wake up in the morning and not have to think about the facade that I need to erect in order to get through the day in my job. Because as who I am, my job is out of reach, the system would not tolerate it, nor would I be able to fulfil my duties.
It feels like switching out of myself and into an inferior photocopy that resembles my normal self, but devoid of the colours, intricacies and distinctions that I hold dear in myself and that give me value as a person. A sanitised, featureless version of myself who I am not particularly fond of.
And while I wear this copy of myself, my honest self sits in the wardrobe and starts to get stiff and show signs of neglect, so when I slip back into it, there is a hardened feeling in the joints and there is need of a good, long stretch.
I need to find somewhere that is looking for me, and not just a husk that I can fill.
November 13th, 2007 at 10:38 pm
What was I expecting, really? More autonomy? More freedom? Maybe relief from bureaucracy. I don’t know what I thought I was walking into, but this is certainly not what I had in mind.
I don’t know what it is that I thought that I could teach or to tell, but there is so little room to move, such a terrible dearth of opportunity to express or inspire. Now I’m not so sure that what I hoped it was that I could share, could teach, can even be taught at all.
Neither do I know do I know who I thought I would teach it to. I don’t know what I expected of teenagers, maybe it’s their number and proximity that makes them less like the whole, seperate people that I thought they might be.
Sagely reflections are staring at me from the columns of glass panes. These things that I have found in life, that I have discovered, that I wished I had known before it caused me so much trouble and before I caused so much trouble for others, in those times I was never going to have known. It was not a light to be turned on, or a door to be opened. I can show no shortcuts, tell no secrets, give no revelations.
There are no words that I may tell them what I know.
It is a humble quiet with which I resign myself. It was a glorious plan, a golden vision, but one born out of naivety. I have not the tongue and they have not the ears for us to build such a dream.
dream another dream, this dream is over
November 6th, 2007 at 9:08 pm
There are different stages of broke. There’s “can’t afford to go to the movies” broke, there’s “can’t afford to eat out” broke, “riding the bike since I can’t afford petrol for the car” broke, “busting the piggy bank” broke, and occasionally I hit “I own Weet-bix, teabags and a can of tomato soup” broke. This kind of thing normally reaches the more drastic stages as the cycle approaches payday, and the state of things becomes more dire when I don’t see a bill sneaking up on me. Thankfully I’ve never hit “I can’t pay the rent, I live in the Sunday paper and wrestle rodents for your food scraps” broke, and hopefully it’s a station in life without my name on it. On the upside, thanks to my self-imposed recession, part of my financial affliction is soon to be… well… amputated I guess.
As for work, things are flat out. Normally during the week, I’m anywhere from half of a person to a full person depending on the events of the day. As of Friday last week, I’m a full time person and then some. Aroundabout twenty percent over and above what a reasonably sane person would do in a week. Of course for such services I’m also getting paid like a person and and then some. I may be a fool, but I am not a prize fool. It may be tiring and borderline madness, but for three weeks I’m sure I can survive, and it’s a bit like living in fast forward when it comes to trying to work out if I should be teaching or not.
I’m off to see my favourite quack about my snoozing later this week, I’m not expecting any revelations, but if there’s anyone to come up with some brain waves, he’s as good a bet as any.