Tonight was day three of chipping my ticket to the factory man for awhile until the next musical endeavor takes off into exploration. Needless to say, it has brought both the worst and the best from me. In my fits of frustration, I become this cursing and saliva spewing monster that absolutely wants to break everything and everyone in half. But on the other hand, I have become far more on point with my mental note taking.
More and more lately, I feel extremely pulled back from existence itself and feel as though I am peering into life through a window on the outside. My eyes are becoming a camera lens for those on the other side to spectate, but my body is tossed, turned and broken by the machines of this world. I'm typing this right now with scratched and irritated hands, who are longing to hold an instrument again. As cliche as it may sound, I am just not cut out for anything but my music. Call me a bum, call me lazy, call me what you will; I know who I am and what I am best at.
I am a vessel thats floating out on a turbulent sea, and the only thing that keeps my paddles sputtering is passion. If I am not passionate about something, I'm very apathetic towards that particular task or object. The only thing that gets me through walking out each and every night is this fact:
THIS IS ONLY TEMPORARY.
My eyes are fixed on getting back on the streets and moving with the Spirit and singing songs, but in the mean time I am completely blown away by how humans work. The factory is clouded with crushed dreams floating aimlessly amongst the blood, sweat, and fears. Yes, fears. A fear of being presented as vulnerable to a rookie or another superior. A fear that this might be the rest of someones life. A fear that you just might not be strong enough to make it to the end of a shift.
There is so much false confidence in that place; it basks in a stew of machismo and terrible Taz tattoos. The old Ian would find this absolutely depressing and at parts, it admittedly is. But there is a new birth in my mind chambers, and that is to peer in more in depth into peoples lives. Not in some creepy BTK killer sort of way, but in a fashion of being fascinated by anyone struggling to keep afloat day by day. Our existence is just one ongoing web of networking. Each string of silk with its own story to tell and it is absolutely beautiful.
Perhaps one day I will get over my back pains and hatred for the blue collar job and realize that life is such a complex thing...to the point where a mind like mine shall always pull some lever of inspiration from SOMEWHERE in this life.
But with that being said, I'm going to go fall asleep for a few hours before I head back in for 'nother round.
Le sigh.
Until next time (whenever that is),
Shlomodoyle
No comments:
Post a Comment