Among your greater sorrows let’s still take a minute to mourn yet another significant loss of freedom for me

Welp, I “finally” start working on Monday, which is quite frankly an unmitigated disaster. Not only I’ll be alone and hopeless as usual but robbed of about 80 % of my time for the sake of stupefying grinding slavery.

Because life always does get better doesn’t it? Can’t even do anything “drastic” for a quite while, honor bound to certain parameters and whatnot. So the trap is truly and well closed.

Let’s have a toast to a life of ever increasing resignation and small everyday horrors.

Dear office dweller,
Perhaps you like your job? Or even love it?
Perhaps you don’t mind doing it for forty or fifty hours a week?

Perhaps the paperwork you have to do, the compromises you are forced to make and the boss you have to kow-tow to are all agreeable, or at least acceptable?

Perhaps you don’t mind being forced to meet deadlines? Perhaps the piano you could be playing, the lover you could be delighting, the soft cressy hillock you could be rolling around on, the horse you could be riding, the daughter you could be amazing, the vegetables you could be growing, the toilet you could be cleaning, the crime you could be committing, the fabric you could be cutting, the cow you could be being, the power chord you could be slaying and the ping pong ball you could be smashing round a cathedral can all be squeezed into evenings and weekends?

Perhaps lack of spontaneity makes you feel safe and comfortable?
Perhaps lack of animals is not a problem for you?

Perhaps suppressed sexuality and all day talk of teevee is pleasant?

Perhaps you don’t mind putting the face on?

Perhaps you are quite happy not giving everything away?

Perhaps you have had your native initiative smashed out of you by a lifetime of education, and do not know what to do with freedom?

Perhaps fear that you will not be able to survive outside of work cripples your readiness to escape?

Perhaps you’ve given up studying blueprints, digging tunnels, tapping out messages on the radiator and watching, watching for the moment when you can run?

Or perhaps not?
Just wondering.
All my love,
Freedom

———

Cheers!