Changing Jobs

It’s time for a change, the path I currently follow in my life like water through a pipe, is insanity personified. If I'm insane I think
it's time I did something a little crazy. I'm tired of following in peoples footsteps. I'm tired of blazing my own trail only to catch up
with someone who has already done what I wanted but never managed to leave any mark.

What happened to originality? Do we all just have to go on copying what's been done before and hope that the passage of time will allow us to plagiarise whatever we want. Can we now safely assume nobody cares enough to see who actually came up with an idea in the first place? If the pop industry is anything to go by then originality will go the way of the dodo soon enough.

The tension in my mind, my body even my voice is constant now. Every cell in my body knows that something is wrong. I'm awake all night, alert and focused. During the day I'm on autopilot. My mind knows it's only in the twilight hours that it's free to learn and explore and be creative. My dreams are a cacophony of ideas and things unsaid.

My primary work colleagues Microsoft office and it's coterie of soul destroying work based applications are about as inspiring as a velcro
strap. Yet I spend days of my life creating utterly awful documents, spreadsheet and presentations about things that even those who require them find them about as appealing as smallpox.

I yearn to just press the accelerator pedal to the floor and aim this parody of an existence of the highest cliff. I can see myself dancing
around the fireball that would remain after, like some sort of heathen pagan. I listen to the radio and in every song I hear the musician telling me to go do what I really want regardless of what might be said. Buried deep own in my subconscious mind the steady rumble of battle drums grows louder and the pace quickens. Like a cerebral response to the ever growing stream of external stimuli my subconscious mind is amassing an army of reason for an assault on my conscious mind, a coup against the current regime.

Reality is not without its own armoury and waiting in the trenches are legions of doubts, naysayers and heavy infantry habits. Overhead a bomber circles, in its bomb bay doors a weapon of mass destruction hangs ready to halt any forward progress. Along its bloated frame the words, 'You can't leave a good job in the current economic climate' are scrawled in Arial bold size 48.

The current standoff looks set to boil over anytime now, materialistic propaganda in the form of cars, clothes and all things nice whisper
sweet desires in my ear. Reality has an ally in the mainstream media it appears. I can see the bank manager grinning like a Cheshire cat as I sign my life away in the form of high interest loans for things I neither need nor really want.

It's proving o be one of the greatest challenges in my life, breaking with the norms. Barrier after barrier falls into place at every step. Like a mountaineer trying to get up and over a mighty peak the higher I go the harder it gets. My oxygen supply lessens as I attempt to cut
myself off from those below. My own mind becomes the enemy as I 'm forced to constantly renegotiate with my will for a few more joules of motivation.

I look in the snow and I see the tracks of those who've tried and failed on this path. Here and there sit those who couldn't go further but couldn't go back either. I press on; uncertain of what lies ahead but certain it's worth exploring.