Play Nice

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[This is where the summary would go if I'd bothered to write one.]

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Square hole

You see that post it on that wall? That’s my life. It’s blank and full of possibilities. Sounds hopeful, doesn’t it? But you see, I’m also confined to a certain amount of space and time. That’s life. People give you tools and encouragement. They tell you that you can be anything you want to be, do anything you want to do. Hell, if you’re completely aimless the government will even take the time to schedule your day. Do you know how much can be done before 7 am?

I don’t. I make it a point of never getting up before noon. I wake up, stare at the ceiling for 30 minutes or so, while my body decides whether it’s in the mood to be productive. I think some of the problems in the world stem from the fact that we let our minds and emotions do too much of the work. Have you ever listened to your body? Yeah, I know. People tell me that the heart and mind are part of your body, but it ain’t so my friend. Not true. Your heart and brain certainly. But they’re content to merely exist. Your heart is happy as long as you don’t clog it up with too many McWhoppers and your brain, well, who the hell knows what your brain wants.

Your emotions and mind are totally different things. Just follow me here. Or don’t. You can come and go as you please when you’re around me. I’m a free-spirited sort of fellow. I’m still trying, you see, to figure out what to fill my sticky note up with. I did well in school. Really well actually. People are often surprised by that. That amuses me. As if a suit and tie are clear indicators of success in life. I’m a productive member of this society. You wanna know why?

I’ll tell you why. I haven’t killed anybody. Yep, that’s it. That’s my sole contribution. The way I figure it is that all the other lost souls out there are doing some pretty god-awful things in order to get by. They have no respect for human life. Me? I respect it a little too much if you ask me. If I didn’t then I’d be out there, trolling my way through a 9-5 job, making do with pretending that pushing paper around makes a difference. I’d be content with getting a check every two weeks so that I could pay the bills on time. I’d be sitting in meetings nodding my head as if a I truly believed that what was needed to save the world was a new marketing plan or a new 3 page spread in some trade journal.

That ain’t for me man. I’m going to sit here and stare at this sticky. One of these days the idea will come and it will be good. It might not save the world, but it will save me and really, is there more that can be asked of this life?

Published 04/25/03 in Writing • | Views: 1889 times | Print

3 Comments & Trackbacks

So, it looks like I’m not to only one pretending my days away at a 9-5.  Good to know.  I can continue pretending now becuase I have one more weapon in my arsenal: solidarity.

Posted by Flipsycab  on  04/25  at  06:01 PM


Posted by duncan  on  04/25  at  06:15 PM

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