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My endless numbered day off

Sometimes it’s difficult to keep silence at bay.
It threatens to overwhelm me.
Especially this long Friday,
my day off. The house is empty,
save for Moko and I. The Sun makes
fraudulent attempts at cheer –
sunlight and shadow, coins and paradox,
everywhere elements of duality.

Today my car got its “summer care” package.
A first step in what may soon become
a mad flurry of activity, centered around
my leave-taking. I am ready for a new beginning,
but am forced to procrastination.
A work-ethic sense of responsibility,
to a job that’s never given reason to
deserve it. True, I enjoyed my job;
and I am leaving none too soon.
Responsibility and compensation;
an employment duality. It is too often
skewed towards responsibility.
Compensation gets the shaft.
What a world, what a world.

Two Mormon missionaries came to my doorstep today.
I stood out on the porch and spoke with them
for about 10 minutes. I told them that I
was in a good place, spiritually, and that I
begrudged no-one the right to their own beliefs.
They said it was nice to talk to people,
even those like myself who had no particular interest
in church; better than getting doors slammed in their faces.
They were nice, and it served me well to remember:
we are all suffering through our own experiences,
fighting to determine our unique senses of humanity.
Make the best of today, speak with the people
who knock on your door. Belief systems aside,
we are all struggling to be human.
Existential to the bone, am I.

The Oberlin Library is going through something similar
to what the Grafton Library is going through.
The Board meets, middle management is cut –
everyone will do everything like a true
communist state. But again, compensation is never equal.
All these decision-makers, deliberating,
and they’ve no idea how a library runs.
Those who run the scut-work of 9-5 understand;
and are kept far from the decision-making process.

Olympia beckons like a dream;
one with too much reality.
After all, these are not the problems
of living in a certain place.
These are the questions that haunt my humanity.
They will surely follow me.

Emily keeps me at bay.
We held each other for an hour,
shared a beautiful moment – now
she wants nothing that will make
parting more painful.
I want anything that will make
these last two weeks less so.

The fatal difference of perspectives.

One reply on “My endless numbered day off”

I; like; your; posts; they”re; so; eloquent; and yes; yourareexistentialtothebone.

You know what happened to me after ****-***** and I broke up (quit smoking, ran a marathon) and I would reccomend nothing more than taking all the separation she can give you. There’s good times ahead man. I know that the next two weeks could be hell, but you’ve got friends and family waiting with open arms halfway across the country and putting off the inevitable tearing yourself away won’t do anything except put off the real pain for later.
-_-
But you know this.
_-_
Feel better and see you soon!

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