Yet they failed to mention the finer details about the lovely little rate race you would have to participate in for the duration of your time there. In all of my life I have never encountered such adversity for the sake of apathy, where even great deeds evoke no more than a slight tweak of the corner of your viewers mouth.
Anyway. It was way past late, so I decided to hang out in my usual place. Somewhere nobody could find me, but I could hear if anybody were calling me or trying to reach me. It was a special place. MY special place. I opened the window in the back of the studio and climbed out onto the fire escape. The building only had six floors, so I climbed up an additional four flights of metal staircase. To reach the top. Not a satisfying or gratuitous experience. I wasn't mounting Everest or even conquering Mount Doom for that matter. The company itself only "owned" two floors of the established building.
They told me that New York City was one of the greatest cities in the world. When I reached the top of the ladder I walked up on the roof of the building. The building was encircled and enclose by all sorts of tall skyscrapers, easily swallowing any perspective of the city and the sky. You could look straight up for a few moments and catch what you would hope to believe is a star before your neck started to get sore from the extreme angle. I wondered, that if anybody in any of those tall buildings wanted to jump out to there doom that they wouldn't even have the gratification of hitting the city streets and causing some sort of a fuss. They would land on this desolate roof, equipped with air ducts and air conditioners, and some garbage that found its' way here over time to be forgotten. Just like the waste, they too would become forgotten and left to become a meaningless integration of the edifice they had just met.
Those towering buildings. So regal and professional looking, so erect. I come here to be alone. More alone than I was inside the office just now. Why did I find such comfort out there I would never really know, but I was always attracted to safe offshoots from the norm. Kind of like standing just outside of a mosh pit or a social circle. Varying intensities not included. I don't sit down on this roof, due to the excessive amounts of waste and filth, not to mention any insects or rodents that make a home of this place. I merely stand and lose myself in the darkness. The only light provided is of the offices and apartments surrounding me, so courteously and unknowingly giving me a small token.
I remember when I used to be stressed out about all of this. The late hours, the constant required standby hours, and waiting for other people to finish their work so that I could commence my task that normally took one hundredth of the time that I spent idling around. I am the end result, and the last eye of production, yet I do not produce. I am at the beck and whim of those experience and outgoing enough to land themselves in somehow of a better position than I am. In all due respects, we all exist as some level of indentured servitude. Some just make more money and have to work less hours than others. Those who are at the bottom rungs are left to collect dust while they continuously pour their hearts over an indefinite future. I can barely see five feet in front of me let alone five years, metaphorically speaking.
In the past I would complain and rant about my apathy and depression over my work-no life balance to friends, industry buddies, and my girlfriend. There's only so much somebody can say or do to cheer you up until you realize that it's all empty pep phrases that guarantee you nihil, which by all rights is the best they can do in the first place. I used to kick chairs and scream. I used to throw light objects across the room, wishing i could just smash the everliving hell out of some heavy shit. I considered therapy, career shifts, lifestyle shifts. My job barely allows me any consistent time to myself throughout the weeks, and I have no personal insight of where else I would like to land myself...and therapy? What's another person going to be able to do for me at this point?
Nowadays, I am drained. I bend over and take it how they want me to, and I always remember to say "Please", "Thank You", and "You're Welcome" after every helping. I'm a good little boy aren't I? I climbed back down the ladder, through the window, and resumed my usual position in front of my computer. New articles, new posts and notifications, and the latest ideology, yet nothing changed for me. I slouched further into my chair as I scrolled on and on...
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