Workin’ For the Man Every Night and Day…

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Do you ever wonder what it would be like to start another life? To just say “fuck this shit” and maybe join a commune or… become a recluse in search of his destiny – David Carradine style? I believe for many people this has become a normal, everyday way of thinking.

How many of us dream anymore? I mean the big dreams. The ones that made you feel good inside. Those dreams that you believed in so much that nothing was going to stop you from achieving them. What happened to your dreams? There are those of us who do achieve them, but for an overwhelming majority that just doesn’t happen. Instead they find themselves at the mercy of other people’s dreams, other people’s visions, other people’s destinies.

It’s almost rapturous in nature if you think about it; the few who are seemingly chosen and the ones left to witness the last days. I don’t mean to be dark, but you have to agree that something separates the wheat from the chafe. Folks get up for work everyday; most because they are bound by responsibility or some prior obligation, be it to support their family or support the local Honda dealer, DirecTV, Verizon, your…”herbalist”.

If you’re not living that dream, getting up to go do for someone else is one of the hardest things to have to go through over and over and over. I think it’s especially rough here in the Big Apple. You get up out of your nice comfy bed to cram yourself into a metal box with all the good, bad and ugly the city has to offer. I swear the subway is the only place you can see a trust fund preppy next to a trust fund hipster (there’s a difference), scrunched up next to a homeless person (complete with piss-stained britches and a stench that would raise the dead), hunkering over a poor old woman feeding a pigeon that’s part of the requisite Doo-wop quartet making their way through the cramped, bulging gut of an iron horse. It’s like Narnia for the twisted and depraved.

You survive that ordeal and get to work right on time, narrowly escaping the agony of being reprimanded by a manager who would otherwise be a great person if only s/he didn’t work there or got laid more often. Your co-workers ask about your weekend and walk off before even getting an answer…all the while painfully sporting a smile that seems like they’re counting off the seconds to relax those overworked muscles; …4 and 5 and breathe…face yoga they call it. You sit in your little box in front of a machine and work away the hours…and extra hours…and extra hours. Then you go home to get up and do it again.

If you ever listen to Proud Mary by Ike & Tina Turner, it’s a tale of just giving it all up to live a different life. A life free of the stress and the anxiety, the long hours and being away from your children or loved ones. It’s also about not looking back and wondering about what might have been if you stayed in your rut.

It might be cliché, but you get one life on this big blue rock. You better make the best of it. No tired ass excuse about how this and that keeps you from doing the things you want. If you want it bad enough you can change your life and be everything your young wide-eyed, daydreamer self imagined you would be. Like the song says, you make that jump and you will meet new people who smile genuinely and wait around to hear how your day’s going. They’ll lead you to a new place and if you dream about it hard enough that place will be just what you were looking for. All you have to do is say “fuck it”, be brave and refuse to settle for anything less.

I’m always interested in hearing from others. Feedback offers an opportunity for growth and expression. Please leave a comment and let’s start a conversation.


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