I don’t want to live believing in
things that aren’t there. I have too many ideas and dreams to count
for my life and how I want to live it to leave any room for the
mounts of shit that gum up the works. If we have a bullshit
friendship, I’m either going to end it or marginalize it to the
point of forgetting it until someone brings up your name. If there is
no hope for my psyche and the business world to coexist, I will drive
myself insane making sure that’s in fact the case.
I have a scarily dark view of this
world. I use the word scary because it sometimes genuinely scares me
the things I can argue, fairly persuasively, in favor of. I say dark
because I sincerely feel like a cloud surrounds my head at times and
gears all thoughts into a swirling chaos of irrelevance, uncertainty,
and hopelessness. While I’m hardly dominated by these modes of
thinking, they are never really hidden, ignored, or non-compelling.
I’ve said in the past that I don’t
want to live in spite. I want instead to espouse ideals more than
simply be the black to the white. Maybe I’m characterizing it
wrong. Maybe my spite is the necessary “balance” to the shit I’m
willing to take. Maybe my hatred isn’t me manifesting some personal
evil or forgone conclusion about how my finally insane brain will
need to express itself in order to prove a point or send a message.
Maybe the “struggle,” as I’ve so characterized it, is the only
way for things to ever really be.
For as much as I like to think I know,
sometimes I don’t even give myself enough credit. I know people,
who you pay money for a service, should do that job well and respect
your time. I know they should answer their phones. I know you should
find out the truth of your employees actions before you try to sweep
their responsibility under the rug. I know that whenever you try to
make your burden someone else’s problem, you disrespect their very
life. Somehow we’ve enabled people to feeling entitled to
continually pass on the responsibility.
I can’t take thinking I’m to blame
for everyone’s fuck ups anymore. It’s not my fault the
electrician put the electric box next to the plumbing system that may
one day decided to clog and flood after explicitly telling me that
someone coming to inspect the kiosk would “freak out” if they saw
that. It’s not my fault for trying to like and trust in someone who
with the flip of a switch can turn passive aggressive and adopt an
“oh well” attitude. I do not need to take on the responsibility
of feeling shitty when I’ve been trying to pursue a path that
enables and celebrates instead of exploits while only having the
pathetic tools (read people and policy) the world at large has given
me to play with. My response to self-loathing indulgent bullshit is
to try and calmly and deliberately dictate where and how things can
change and then do everything in my power to show what the fuck that
change looks like.
Fuck you for perpetuating a world that
facilitates me getting like this. Fuck me for letting it in if even
for a few hours. I’m not going to stop hating fucking idiots. I’m
not going to stop railing against shitty work, shitty leaders, and
shitty ideas. I know so goddamn much that it includes the source of
what would drive me insane or psychopathic as well as what will
always talk me down. You don’t even know how to respect yourself
enough to give a damn. You don’t create, you don’t contribute,
and you better fucking trust that one day I’ll make it so you won’t
matter, and at the very least it won’t be at the exhaustion of my
thoughts.
