Its Just A Ride

So this morning I woke up to find that someone had taken my car for a joy ride. The kind person/people returned it, but it doesn't start. How generous. I often didn't lock my car when I left it outside my house, trusting in the good nature of neighbours in residential Stoughton. It's hardly the ghetto. But apparently Megan was right, and my belief in the good in people was misguided. Shame. I wish we still lived in a time when we could leave our front doors unlocked, but that's just a dream.
At least I get the day off work, though perhaps I should be more careful what I write. You never know when your employees might read what you're writing nowadays. I got told last week that I can't have a holiday I've booked in July. So I either quit over a holiday or have a two week black mark on my record that will fuck me over for future employment. But hey, rules are rules. I guess again it's foolish for me to expect my employees to have a sense of humanity, or the ability to display leniency rather than follow the rules of the banking world. And oh there are so many. We even get trained to be on the prowl for terrorists nowadays, no fucking lie! Do they really care more about upholding the values of a corrupt system than me, a human being they sit and interact with everyday? I guess they probably don't even question it. Thank fuck this isn't facebook. I'm safe for now at least. However much I try to blame things on paranoia, it's becoming reality. When did we forget our dreams?
The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I spend my days checking my inbox and spouting off scripting like a fucking automated message. We live trapped in loops, reliving the same few days over and over. We invision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, we respond the same way. We think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.
And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become, but I've definately got quicker at typing, and I do know one thing: The solution doesn't involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of some day easing my fit into a mould. It doesnt involve tempering my life to better fit someones expectations. It doesnt involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up. And yet inevitably I'm all talk and thoughts and little action. Not every one of these words is mine, but it seemed to fit perfectly with what I wanted to say.
Peace
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