:: The Blurst of Times ::

:: 9.21.2004 ::

Jonesin’

I don’t really have anything to say. But, I am getting tired of reading that last title on here, so it was time to at least change the wall color, if you get my drift. And I know there is always that little thrill of seeing something new on someone’s page that hasn’t changed for a while. I hope people get that when they show up here - if they do, here’s your little thrill for the day, my pleasure, signed Fred - if not, then you probably aren’t much into reading this anyway.

Work is the primary focus of my life. My waking life anyway (my dreams have become increasingly vivid and bizarre as of late - possibly a combination of sleeping less/harder and my choice of reading/viewing material). Mentally, very little of my focus is on work, but it does dictate my schedule, routine, attire, economics, and social structure, so we can say it is my focus right now. Even during the ten hours a day I’m in the office, nothing much is going on. It’s like reading a B paper from an A student - all the mechanics are there, the content is above par, at times it may even be engrossing, but you know in the nagging back part of your brain, that it could be better, that there is something missing. I am scouring for that missing bit. Everyday I go in trying to pinpoint that missing beat, but I haven’t found it yet. Sometimes I think it is the passion - something about working for a firm that is very national and very diverse makes it a more benign experience. As the effusive NoFX once said: ‘The desperation’s gone.’ Working for a tiny firm, everyday was a battle to stay afloat. Here, financial security is all but given, and even when it is all coming down to the wire, things are getting thrown together at the last minute, and it’s looking grim, the phrase ‘Well, it was a peanuts job, so if we get fired, we’ll survive’ still floats around. I feel like at the end of my day, I want to have more at stake.

That’s where you have to be to find the gold, man, right out there on the brink. It is so much more than metaphor to speak of an oyster and a pearl, but in some ways it can hardly be illustrated better. That constant fear, working at the edge of ones capacity, pushing and striving for something greater, biting off more than you can chew and instead of spitting it out, swallow it grit and all, smile and know the only thing that can follow it is another, bigger bite.

So I feel like I’m lacking that edge. My work is not providing me with challenges. Sure there’s the ‘get this all into CAD before 3pm’ challenge, but that’s just stack-cup, that’s just shoveling shit, simply a physical repetitive activity. I want the problem that challenges my mind, my thought process, my beliefs, something that so baffles my body and spirit that I lay awake at night wrestling with it, that I give up food, sleep, sex, everything to tackle it. The thing is: I’ve tasted that challenge before; it’s a drug, man, like lady-H, chercez le femme and all that shit.

But this will be an exercise in patience. As the ol’ tag line says ‘I was never one for patience’ and it’s true. Damn true. I’ve lost loves over it. But now that time has come. I have to refocus my energies to myself. For so long they have been directed outward - giving, interacting, creating with others. Now I shift back to myself, a metamorphosis of sorts. Ovid, not Kafka. I will hone and refine and sharpen to a fine point, ready to embrace or battle or both. I’m entering the final stages of pure growth and will emerge with the passions I so crave. And when that’s done, then the real work can begin.

“This is who I am, and now I’ve made my peace...”
:: Freddy F. at 10:10 PM [+] ::