I’ve been very demotivated at work lately. Everyday, I felt like being trapped inside a torture cage, serving a manager I can never manage to like.
I tried to be nicer to him. I tried to be civil, neutral at least. But still. The stubborn head I have tells me not to follow him. So the more he tells me to do things, the more I don’t want to do it.
If this is a small country, I could readily lead a revolution to oust this person from his seat. But this is not. It won’t be. I won’t be that small revolutionary hero who liberated the people from the communist regime (thanks to my current buddy Junot Diaz who have just injected some stuff in my head).
We are talking about business here. And this business is what feeds me. What pays my dues. What fills my pocket. And this fact actually pisses me off. I am not happy. And if I choose to be happy, I have to leave this place. I have to leave work and probably eat dust (though not really, just exaggerating). If I could have been 10 years younger, I would have just left this place, yesterday. I wouldn’t have cared. But I can’t be that reckless anymore. Although sometimes, I wish I can still be.
I am currently reading The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz and I really liked the character of Beli. One who didn’t care less, and who couldn’t give a sh*t about anything. One who is strong even after having her ribs and arms fractured. One who doesn’t give a shit about life’s beatings.
In some nights, when I lie alone on my bed, I would somehow think of just flying away and not coming back. And I drift in and out of sleeping and dreaming awake. Sometimes mixing it, not knowing which one is a dream and which one is just the product of my mind. As to how I’m gonna fly, I have no idea. As to where I want to fly to, I also, still have no idea. I just wanna feel the wind pressing on my face as I soar high. Up, and above the clouds, into the sky, so high.