An Office Space Love Story by e.e.f.

Work: The Burglary of our Souls--A Stagnate Day in the Cubicle of Hell

Consider it not so deeply friend
There is no tribute or hand to lend
Thoughts like these will make us mad,
Confound us in our miserable fad.

We are practiced robots of our time
Laborious morons lacking sophic sublime.
So stake the claim of the android's lofty conception
An effulgent "case of the Mondays" affection.

For we cannot change our destiny
From 8-5 we rest in thee
Fuddled karma and archaic persuasion
Leads us to this destructive invasion

Beat on beat we gruel to the drum
Of other's demands and their hypnotizing hum.
Whose "fluke" choices to desensitize man?
This paltry living muddles the original plan.

Burn down this cubicle, set the computer on fire
Free this mind and my heart's desire.
In a 40 hour week what do I accomplish?
It sure aint work and this advertising niche.

Eight bosses to whom I respond. Who am I under?
Spread thin my loyalty, I am asunder.
Avoiding TPS reports and the nazi sales reps,
I spend 3 hours writing poetry and increasing bookish depth.

Has tradition caused you as well, to settle for this job,
Disguising your creative nukes and becoming the unchangeable slob?
Let's conquer this behavior, ordering a new pattern of perspective
A potential cubicle meltdown or a name change elective.

Flirt now with this proposition, (since I need to get paid)
We will change our inflection and impact the whole day
Stay with the 8-5 and what it entails
Just change the name and we'll work out the details.

I am no longer a skimpy "assistant"
(I'll maintain the daily duties just to be consistent)
But we'll change our title and exude some ambiance
Though, achieving this may require a seance.

At this moment be rid of trifling manure
Power and prestige and dignity is our lure
Send the pansies to the dime store industry
And we'll rock this world with a young funk ministry

It's evidence, it's tangible, not just an inkling of hope
The upgrade is enforced and the the title is dope
Pronounce it for me friends--do not fear
"Internal Optimization Infrastructure Engineer"

Normal duties will resound and dreary day lean
But hold that head high and know that we're a team.
What you represent is all that you are
And from this time such, freedom isn't that far!

(Disclaimer: Fellow MR'ers, take this with a grain of salt. I got nothing but luv for ya)

alien, inimical, abstract, terrible

typing, thinking, quirkishly laughing, enjoying life. you call. a teared-up voice. quiver. ask for help. the flash of reality, the pain of death. the intimate relation to love, to family. atrocious leaping of a maddened heart. the windows are dark. the light dims as the lids close. the shades of breathe turn down. flicker my heart hard. flicker my smile slow. may my sorrow be a  contribution to a uncontrollable moment. take this offer i give unworthy. i am here for you.

hee hee hee. farewell festivities. my friends stop at nothing. 

mean mean midnight Scrabble king  

travelin' money. looking pretty slim 

playing hookie

Tensaw Delta. friday afternoon. sunshine. friends. gators. sounds of John Eddie on the shore. flowers. time.  lots of time. lots of laughter. (photo by val w/her Holga and transparency film)

Dim

It's not about writing lyrics, it's about the nitty gritty
Peel away the debris from inside; the ooze, the filth, the grime, the glum
Down the hallway a familiar light burns. A familiar place I'm sure I've been before.
Smells reminisce
Visual curiosity
But the feeling I cannot absorb

I know I loved you once
and shuffle now not too far behind
But unless in your immediate presence
the effects of you I cannot find

Draw me near to you
Shedding my skin of who I once was
Draw me near to you
Baptizing in your purity
Draw me near to you
Basking in salvation's security

Live the Question

"That which is static and repetitive is boring. That which is dynamic and random is confusing. In between lies art."

I packed all my stuff for the hopeful 2 month roadtrip and loaded it into the blue Jeep which drove off into the absence of my vision the 3 weeks before I'll see it again. I've got a few pit stops to make on the east coast before I catch up to the car filled with my bike, Leatherman, cameras, and camping gear. I still have yet to organize my life though I don't know where I'm going; and plan my path for an undetermined amount of time. It's one of the craziest things I've done...planning for the unplannable, but yet it's so close to how I've lived my entire life thus far. And this is what I live for--experiences, absorption, questions, and occasionally answers. But of all my adventures, none provides the greatest release as "If the Son shall set you free, then you shall be free indeed." John 8:32

today's appeal of the arts:
MUSIC (jazz)

• St. Germain--Tourist
  

BOOKS (inspirational nonfiction)

• Roadtrip Nation
  

Blue Like Jazz

my eyes are all a blurrrrrrr and these walls are closing in it seems. can't wait to frolick outside for awhile. through the streams, in the trees, over the gaps, and in the caves. "the mind of man plans his way but the Lord directs his steps." proverbs 19:6

Dude, where's the shower?

 


this (twisted pic) was actually taken a long time ago one morning after camping and before Waffle House. It was still 6 something a.m. and we had just found our way out of the woods. I forsee this expression coming again soon. oh the anticipation.

growing

a letter to a close friend:

I shouldn't have brought any of that conversation into action. It was no noble sacrifice that needed accounting for; no recognition necessary. I stood up--rightly so and determined--to defend the name of someone I knew deserved it, you. It just amazes me how the heart is so fickle. How some people are so sensitive when they too are warriors for brutality. So what, I lost a few desired relationships in heated discussion but the one I gained provides satiety. You say I'm loyal to the end even when I get screwed over, but to me there is no end. I am passsionate for my people. And maybe a tincy bit hardheaded.

But just know I got yer back...in or out of the ghetto.

new beginnings

I know this link has been passed out already to a few friends and family. This site was initially created based on the trip I am taking in a few weeks--enabling all curious to vicariously live the adventures Amber and Caleb and I (and random friends) will experience. I plan on posting daily (or whenever I can access a computer) thoughts and pictures of our whereabouts. I bought a mini digital camera so if all goes well you'll get to see us chasing buffalo, whittling wood, and diving off waterfalls...Not that any of that is in our schedule. We're starting from the homebase of Mobile and then trucking out west. 1st I'll make a stop via plane in the Carolina's to see my college girls, then I'll fly to San Fran to see another dear friend before she takes off to Brazil. CA is where my fellow roadies will pick me up and from there we'll truck up HWY 1 to Oregon, then Washington, hit the San Juan islands, trek up to Vancouver...who knows where else. All I do know is I have 10 days left of insiders insanity at this job.

In addition to traveling experiences I'll also be intertwining my melodramatic ramblings. ooh, goodie.

why

I've been craving a life more simplistic for some time now, and have almost built up this invincible persona of my future. But today as I cower at my trembling fingers diligently dialing the dentist # and my quivering voice making the appointment that will suck my last morsels of traveling money from my pockets, I realize that one has to take life as it comes. And no one, not even me, especially me, or Jack London, or Chris Mcandless, or other nomads can escape from the urgings of bodily squeaks. There are inevitable advances in age that call me to be sensible to take care of this body, not have a death wish, as it seems when I'm all a twitter about life. In essence though, the more shop work I do to the body, the longer and harder I can use it. More adventure for me as I see it. I'm off to drink homemade ginger beer. Dude, potent.

13 days

til my freedom expands outside fuzzy grey cubicle walls of death. The corporate oppression that eats away at my soul and nips at my toes as I cringe them back into the shoes that will shortly walk me out of here is soon on its way to obliteration. A peaceful death for something so ferocious that it captures even the most innocent. I fear I've been somewhat converted to the need for $, the need for structure, and so breaking back into my original state of organized chaos will be a journey but definitely one without struggle. I just want to drive for days, live off little food, breathe in fresh air, see sights that extend beyond what I could see in an 8-5, and meet the most irresistibly intriguing souls alive. This will be the extent of my first ravings, seeing as how I'm not even on the road yet. 13 days. oh, sweet 13 days.