Monthly Archives: April 2009

My Evil Hat

My Evil Hat

I’ve been indulging myself in a somewhat guilty pleasure lately… well not lately… okay once lately, but most in the recent past. So I figured the best way to really get all my anger over my ex boyfriend abandoning me two years ago was to break the silence that I oh so enjoyed imposing upon him and send him all my anger via email (could be worse…. but he was afraid to actually call me once I gave him the okay [insert evil laugh here]).

It felt great, it felt awesome, I so so so wish I had more to get out of my system but then I realized that I’m still telling him how I feel about him. After all when I thought I was in love with him, I told him I love him… so why can’t I tell him that I hate him now that I realize he completely screwed me over?

Same same. no?

I can feel the boys cringe. There is nothing worse than an angry woman… run run run for the hills! He pissed me off and unfortunately he never learned the magic woman-neutralizing actions to make the situation better (well he was told it, but I doubt he was listening…. no he wasn’t listening)

But it is dangerous to really piss me off. I’m one of those people who is so so patient, so so nice and so so there for you….. until…. until…. you hit the button. The BIG button! Which encompasses treating me like a worthless piece of shit FOR NO GOOD REASON! Forget working it out or even acknowledging it, baby. Then feeling hurt because I’m mad at you for abandoning me.

Luckily I no longer give anyone that kinda power over me. I find my walls extremely peaceful because the only dramas are the daydreams I create in my head stories i read in my books, which… are fun and exciting dramas that don’t cost me anything to play out.

Work

Work

The eulogists of work Behind the glorification of ‘work’ and the tireless talk of the ‘blessings of work’ I find the same thought as behind the praise of impersonal activity for the public benefit: the fear of everything individual. At bottom, one now feels when confronted with work- and what is invariably meant is relentless industry from early till late- that such work is the best policy, that it keeps everybody in harness and powerfully obstructs the development of reason of covetousness [this means: inordinately or wrongly desirous of wealth or possessions; greedy.] of the desire for independence. For it uses up a tremendous amount of nervous energy and takes it away from reflection, brooding, dreaming, worry, love, and hatred; it always sets a small goal before one’s eyes and permits easy and regular satisfactions. In that way a society in which the members continually work hard will have more security: and security is now adored as the supreme goddess. And now – horrors!- it is preciously the “worker” who has become dangerous. ‘Dangerous individuals are swarming all around.’ And behind them, the danger of dangers: the individual.” -Nietzsche

In “life as viewed by Me” I continuously make the mistake of assuming people know what I know, or at least can relate to where I’ve learned what I know, which is true in many many respects but not all, and most importantly not always the issues i view as important.

On a typical day I, luckily, drive traffic free to the office, arriving within 3 to 8 minutes late (I’m never quite sure because all my clocks show different times. I do this to trick myself into thinking I am late when I really am not, so then I will be closer to on-time, but the real effect is that I’ve made myself confused as to what time it really is and therefore give up trying to figure out the time…anyways…) Once arriving at work I grab some tea or coffee then start working on the task at hand.

Essentially something needs to be done, pieces need to be organized and processed into a usable and efficient package. Accomplishing this small goal is much the same regardless of what the job is. First I scan the chaos of raw material to pick out the most obvious parts to start with. Using my tools I process the raw materials and after X amount of time have transformed them relevant to the blueprints of what I was instructed should be the finished product.

The repetition of this robot process leads me to grasp to any distraction which provides and excuse for temporary relief of the monotony. My grumbling belly, chance for conversation with my neighbor, the beep of a text message, all these I either welcome the chance and opportunity to tend to or I make a mental note that nature is calling and I must give into the interruption sometime in the near future.

The hour for lunch is my time to indulge in myself, to read and daydream about how I would react if life were this other way or that, or if so and so was here, or what is really going on. I love to spend it alone with my books and only rarely do I find someone else worthy enough to spend this time with.

I leave work at exactly the minute I am allowed to depart and I drive home in a daze, carefully sucking in the life that has been ignored and put on a shelf for the last 10 hours.

“A traveler who has seen many countries and peoples and several continents was asked what human traits he had found everywhere; and he answered: men are inclined to laziness. Some will feel that he might have said with greater justice: they are all timorous [this means: subject to fear; timid]. They hide behind customs and opinions. At bottom, every human being knows very well that he is in the world just once, as something unique, and that no accident, however strange, will throw together a second time into a unity such a curious and diffuse plurality: he knows it, but hides it like a bad conscious – why? From fear of his neighbor who insists on convention and veils himself with it. But what is it that compels the individual human being to fear his neighbor, to think and act herd-fashion, and not to be glad of himself? A sense of shame, perhaps, in a few rare cases. In the vast majority it is the desire for comfort, inertia – in short, that inclination to laziness of which the traveler spoke. He is right: men are even lazier than they are timorous, and what they fear most is the troubles with which any unconditional honestly and nudity would burden them. ” Nietzsche