Hiroshima has certainly grown on me. If I didnt have to work this crappy language institute job, Id love it. But isn't that always the case-- jobs spoil everything. Part-time is the way to go. Freelance is the way to go. Lazy jobs are the way to go. Working for yourself is the way to go. Full-time wage slavery is a fucking scourge. It drains intelligence, sucks out creativity, and crushes the spirit. Such jobs erode your dignity and destroy your happiness.
I should have known it would end like this-- quickly and savagely. The power of wishful thinking is amazing. I should have known I could never endure this kind of humiliation again. Those days are long gone. Another part of me has awakened-- a fiercer, freer, wilder self. Its in charge now. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Anyone who tries to corner me will be bypassed or screwed over. Thats just the way of it... and theres nothing I can do about it (Im reminded of that line from Fight Club: I used to be such a nice guy).
Freedom has that effect. Its more addictive than nicotine or heroin. Few who free themselves can ever return to slavery. Once youve tasted freedom, you become capable of anything to preserve it. It becomes impossible to suck up to bosses, to obey the rules, to play nice. Already Im snarling through meetings. Already I mock my "superiors". Already I plan my escape. Its been only one week but my rage is awakened.
I dont care about career. I dont care about commitments. I dont care about other peoples notion of responsibility. I dont care about fairness. These fuckers are trying to imprison and control me and I cant allow that.
This is something all aspiring hobopoets should be aware of. Be careful about crossing that line.
Once you commit to this life, it becomes an all or nothing proposition. Theres no going back. No more good employee. No more good citizen. You cross the line and thats it-- youre on your own. Youll never fit in with the herd again.
I thought I could fake it a while for the sake of big money... but I was wrong.