Chapter Eleven
Little cash - Big Problems.
It's like that scene in the movie when the character has a shock revelation and all is great and well and dandy. But then what? We always cut - what's next? Well the great self-discovery moment is over and i've followed my impulses and found myself at a train station - but reality checks in and i'm penniless. Of course, as a mid-life crisis is really just a second adolescence with more grey hairs, the teenager in me decides to be daring, and i jump onboard.
I don't like that term mid-life crisis. For a start, i don't feel like i'm at the middle of my life. Why is my life set-up like that anyway? Like i've been working up to this point in my life and it's all downhill from here. Why is it called a crisis? Why is it such a bad thing? Re-discovering yourself should be great! I mean, i feel more alive that i have in years. I've broken out of the repetition of the daily grind and i feel like i'm actually living my life. Maybe when she kicked me out, it wasn't so bad. It wasn't even that long ago - as i said before, life moves so fast we can't even see it.
I'm in my seat. Just to piss everyone off i think i'll stow-away first class. I mean - if you're going to cheat someone out of something, make it worth it. I can see my opponant coming a carriage away. Right - let's see if i can remember how i used to do this. I get up and calmly wall down the aisle. I have nothing with me so i dont have to remember not to leave any trace of myself at my seat. I don't run, but i don't take my time getting to the end of my carriage. As i clutch to the door to the little toilet i check back to see if he has seen me. He looks quite jolly. He's got this suit on that's somewhere between navy and royal blue, i don't know what it's called. His name badge says "Simon". He's got a reddish face which is interrupted by a bristly brown moustache. He looks so earnest as he looms over the seats that it almost seems a shame to dupe him. Almost.
I dash into the toilet and wait. In this brief moment of reflection - i say reflection because wherever you stand in this tiny little coffin of a room you can see yourself in the grubby mirror - i wonder exactly what it is i'm going to do? I need to get away somewhere. I need to get a job, but not a kind of job that becomes the spear-head of my life. Just something that allows me to do things i want to do. I want my job to be the sideshow to my life, not the main act. The warm-up. The support band - not the headliner. Otherwise, what is there to live for?
I hear Simon's jolly boundering tone go by. As i said, i almost feel bad. I step out of the little cubicle thinking, I don't want to have to do this again, well, not again on this journey or i'll never get any rest. I think i'll cut while i'm ahead and get off at the next stop. Shit - where is the next stop? What fucking train am i on?
It's like that scene in the movie when the character has a shock revelation and all is great and well and dandy. But then what? We always cut - what's next? Well the great self-discovery moment is over and i've followed my impulses and found myself at a train station - but reality checks in and i'm penniless. Of course, as a mid-life crisis is really just a second adolescence with more grey hairs, the teenager in me decides to be daring, and i jump onboard.
I don't like that term mid-life crisis. For a start, i don't feel like i'm at the middle of my life. Why is my life set-up like that anyway? Like i've been working up to this point in my life and it's all downhill from here. Why is it called a crisis? Why is it such a bad thing? Re-discovering yourself should be great! I mean, i feel more alive that i have in years. I've broken out of the repetition of the daily grind and i feel like i'm actually living my life. Maybe when she kicked me out, it wasn't so bad. It wasn't even that long ago - as i said before, life moves so fast we can't even see it.
I'm in my seat. Just to piss everyone off i think i'll stow-away first class. I mean - if you're going to cheat someone out of something, make it worth it. I can see my opponant coming a carriage away. Right - let's see if i can remember how i used to do this. I get up and calmly wall down the aisle. I have nothing with me so i dont have to remember not to leave any trace of myself at my seat. I don't run, but i don't take my time getting to the end of my carriage. As i clutch to the door to the little toilet i check back to see if he has seen me. He looks quite jolly. He's got this suit on that's somewhere between navy and royal blue, i don't know what it's called. His name badge says "Simon". He's got a reddish face which is interrupted by a bristly brown moustache. He looks so earnest as he looms over the seats that it almost seems a shame to dupe him. Almost.
I dash into the toilet and wait. In this brief moment of reflection - i say reflection because wherever you stand in this tiny little coffin of a room you can see yourself in the grubby mirror - i wonder exactly what it is i'm going to do? I need to get away somewhere. I need to get a job, but not a kind of job that becomes the spear-head of my life. Just something that allows me to do things i want to do. I want my job to be the sideshow to my life, not the main act. The warm-up. The support band - not the headliner. Otherwise, what is there to live for?
I hear Simon's jolly boundering tone go by. As i said, i almost feel bad. I step out of the little cubicle thinking, I don't want to have to do this again, well, not again on this journey or i'll never get any rest. I think i'll cut while i'm ahead and get off at the next stop. Shit - where is the next stop? What fucking train am i on?
posted by TokenArtStudent at 3:22 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home