I’ve come to the end of the road.
It’s been a long one and one that has left me completely confused and baffled by what is required or expected from me all along the way.
At school, the rules, made by someone else, were imposed absentmindedly. At University there were no rules other than end of year or during write-ups. The working world offered no challenges and only puzzlement, I slipped into it at the same steady pace that the previous ten or twelve had been at. Guess the answer, no-one really cares if you are right or wrong, assign the paper to the right corridor. Avoid eye contact whenever possible. Slide through life as if people were obstacles to be avoided. And then you wake up, middle aged and listening the happy melody of your children and you realise that there is nothing for you, and there has never been anything for you. Even disconnecting with work, colleagues ,friends only brings further disconnection rather than epiphany.
You might as well not exist for most of the time so why not cease to exist? Why should you sit there attempting to convince one or the other that this is important or that is important or look how important you are?
I don’t believe in self-importance and I never have. I have in fact loathed the self-important and was brought up harshly to pity and loathe them. However the self-important are the ones that rule – the ones with confidence to be important are the ones who tell the rest what to do and decide who is hired and who is fired.
I rail against the self-important idiots of this world and they ignore me as if they were born to it. They understand that if they all ignore me then the system works as it is required to do and I will fall out of their world. The implicit self-confidence of the people who through no fault of their own are the masters of their minds. The ones who can understand communication, can move and nurture others through close relationships, can cajole and prod and eliminate competition. Those who are the steady quarter lifers – ten years here – ten years there and you’re done – or ten years here, ten years there and another ten years ten years ten years. You’re done.
The same happens if I am a refugee or a homeless person. I am adrift in the sea of this malevolence and I have no oars, no outboard motor, the dingy I am in is leaking air. Will you care? Would you care? Who are you?