Bored, bored, bored. Feeling a strange boredom settle in. Busy but bored. Bored busy. There must not be much fulfillment in what I’m doing (a.k.a. work). I’m working a job that is great by today’s standards and I’m pretty sure that there are some people out there, in the world, who would kill for this opportunity – in a more literal sense than metaphorical. Hob-knobbing with executives at a high powered company for decent pay and easy work, but I know there is more to life than working for “the man”, living paycheck to paycheck, or, saving up enough to point out the fact to everyone else that I don’t have to work paycheck to paycheck, or blowing the wad I get for the work that I do on cheetoes and heroine or some such.
I’m attempting to make this job a study of life in the corporate world. This helps me get by most days with a modicum of interest, but when I find myself actually enjoying what I’m doing (i.e. the tasks that have been requisitioned of me), my inner voice chimes in and says, “ah ah ah, no you don’t, you know this is not what life is about. Why even attempt to gear your mindset? Just keep doing what you’re doing or else I’ll bug you with boredom until you do. Just so’s you know...” Great, but then how I am I supposed to get any flippin' work done?!
So I make this a study of the human spirit, the human interaction, the human condition in an enslaved nation colony masquerading as a nation’s dream, and I find that I’m actually enjoying the navigational aspects of dealing with angels and demons, helpers and snakes, dog eater’s (no racial confluence intended) and backstabbers, snivelers and champions. It’s all found in here in this little patch of Universe, the stories of old that we refer to, shaped and molded into the present human experience, and I see that all people play a role in their own way whether it’s out on the farm in Lithuania, or under the white hot lights yet another poorly constructed porn set where the women look only half like they’re enjoying themselves, but really you know it’s more that they've sold their manufactured dignity for a decent chunk of change (no offense or judgment ladies, the service you provide is an exemplary one, although most men are too embarrassed to admit it), and what they’re doing has little to nothing to do with who they are, or who they would like to be, or who they’ve accepted or expected themselves to be. I study all this, but when I get down to my actual duties with any gusto it’s like I run into a brick wall of some kind, and then I end up writing it all down instead, when in my head I go, “Okay, back to work…after one more paragraph…” And how am I going to stop the stream once it’s started anyhow?
The boredom is an angry buzz in my midsection, causing my mind to flare up like a hemorrhoid on a hot sunny day at the local sweat shop. I try to breathe it away, which works to a degree, but it comes back once I set to it – my job that is. I guess really all I want to do is write things down, and have my voice heard for whatever reason I feel that it should, and I’m sure that can be judged several billion different ways, but fuck it, when I do what I’m compelled by my energy to do, that’s when I feel the most fulfilled. And then I ask the questions: why doesn’t everyone do that? Why don’t I do it more often? What is this aversion I have to sitting and writing out the things that I see? Fear of failure? Fear of succeeding? I could easily chalk it up to laziness, but that’s just a cop out. How can fail at writing anything? Here I am, writing. SUCCESS!
Maybe there’s the fear of failure I might see projected from other people’s eyes (as if they could possibly dictate what I feel is good, honest, earnest, artistic output), eyes that I can’t see when I’m writing, and even if I did, and they judge me “failure”, what’s it matter? Others may judge me successful. Why not listen more to them? Why not adhere to what they’re saying instead of their alter-egos (adherence is beside the point I suppose)? Everyone seems to have their audience (just look at the television, I like Chandler and Rachel, Kramer and Elaine, JD and Dr. Cox) and in this world of opposites, I guess that would imply that everyone has an anti-audience, or, those who would walk, or not care for what it is they’re experiencing from you, but if that be the case, then there’s no way any one endeavor can fail or succeed in an ultimate sense, so the fear is totally baseless. But then the tricky part is when the event horizon of performance comes to pass. Will I step up, or bow out? I guess that’s the mystery of it all, but since it’s not happening now, then it would seem that there’s no need to fret and worry about it till it is, if then even...
So now there’s this other side of the wooden nickel freshly taken, that side that says once you are in it, then bring what you’ve got with your utmost intensity, with your utmost concentration, knowing full well that there are those out there who will be wanting the same thing as you, to bring something of substance, and that there's not enough room for the two of you, and if they see that you have the wherewithal, maybe more than they do themselves (which is, like, umm…how could that be? You’re you, and you bring you to the situation every time, so someone being better or worse than you doesn't really exist, and if you’re looking out from your perspective and seeing that they’re getting more approval than you are, then maybe it’s not because they’re better than you in any way, just that the alleged approvers are seeing someone bringing something a bit more authentic, because that one person has let go of the role of saboteur and has decided to dive headlong, as headlong as they can, or maybe they're remembering what they saw on TMZ the night before), and you’re about to bring something real, they’ll try to stop it, because somehow, your success equates to their failure in some way, but then understanding that if/when they do make such an attempt, it’s because of their own fear of success or failure and that they haven’t figured out that they should bring their own intensity to the situation, and that really the only measure of success or failure comes from inside their nutty minds, and they apparently have some reconciliation work to do.
To me, it would seem, that if you’re bringing who you are to the table, then that’s really all you can do, for true, that will equate success in your own mind; it’s the only thing that quiets the fretful buzzing in your head/system. And if you’re busily attempting to sabotage another’s attempt to be who they be, then you really are succeeding at doing what you want, and you really are being yourself, only, what do you really want to be? Someone who plays off rhythm, or sings lackluster and off key when another is attempting to play their heart out just so they’ll trip up, or do you want to be the one who steps up in their own story and plays their heart out? Not to topple them for your own selfishness, but to augment the expression in a harmonious fashion. Then again, I guess you really are playing your heart out while sabotaging, only, what’s in your heart are all of the emotions and fears that create the general make up of the saboteur… You’ll be the automatic antagonist in a story where someone else plays the hero that you want to be, you’re sucked in to their story and you can’t get out. NNNNOOOOOO! Whatta fuckin' nightmare that sounds like. And whoever said that there couldn’t more than one hero in a story hasn't read enough comic books (did someone say that?). Do you ever see Batman trying to thwart Superman when flying in and saving a burning bus full of children that's careening out of control toward an oncoming hijacked train full of elderly passengers who were lazily enjoying their golden years, but unbeknownst to the lot them, the train is headed for an unfinished portion of track that leads over a thousand foot cliff? Me either. Heroes in the comics work together to bring down the villain in order to restore the balance and affect the super pose. True, not the end all be all kind of pose, but something to try out at the very least.
I don’t know how many people actually come into this life with that kind of attitude, so it must be a learned thing somehow gathered along the way. Anything learned can be augmented with learning of another kind though, I suppose. I wouldn’t say that there should be some kind of erasure of previous learning, because it seems like all experience creates the depth of the man (or woman, take it easy ladies), but the habits/recursive processes that prior learning has created can be altered to focus that energy on yourself in your own life to create your own painting (of which the center is not always the coolest place to look at). Unless, of course, villainy is what you’re truly after, which may or may not be the case, all I’m saying is…what was I saying again? Oh yeah, bored, bored, bored…
