Survival Mode

Where did I sign up for this? I want to know. Show me the dotted line that I signed stating I was more than willing to participate in this monotonous, day in day out crap?

I’m tired (and obviously bitchy).

This isn’t any fun. All it is, is work. Drive 45 minutes to work, sit in a box for 8 hours, stare at a monitor, eat lunch alone, drive 45 minutes back home. DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY!

I love the saying “think outside of the box” because it’s such an oxy moron. How are we supposed to think outside of the box when we are constantly IN a box? I mean, look around you? EVERYTHING is square. We live in boxes, we work in smaller boxes within bigger boxes, we shop in boxes, we eat in boxes, we spend our lives on computers shaped like boxes, we park in boxes, we sleep in boxes, bathe in boxes, watch entertainment on boxes...(have I made my point?) EVERYTHING is square. So yeah, think OUTSIDE the box will you? (laughs)

And right after I get the chance to ask where I signed up for this, I’m going to ask about the concept of money. Why? It’s just something that made the entire human race slaves to life. It made us greedy, powerful, dishonorable, poor, prisoners, miserable, etc.... It sucked the life out of any life we had a chance of living.

We go to work. Why? To make money. Why? To survive. And yet, is what I’m doing on a daily bases really surviving? Being miserable all the time? Is that living? The needle is stuck and yet the record isn’t scratched.

When am I ever going to have the chance to travel the world and put my toes in every body of water that exists on this planet? When am I going to have the chance to sleep until I’m not tired, so I can wake up feeling refreshed and alive? When am I going to have the chance to spend the day doing what I want, how I want to, for as long as I want to without the pressures of a job and bills and responsibility constantly looming in the back of my mind? When am I going to be free? Free to LIVE OUTSIDE of a fucking box?

Am I depressed? Maybe. Hell, who wouldn’t be living within this record stuck on repeat? Maybe everyone who is depressed is actually normal because we SEE REALITY and those who aren’t are the ones living in a crazy fantasy.

This world is full of SICK. Power hungry bullies, liars, cheaters, killers, losers, betrayers. This world is sick itself. Disease, poverty, pain, pollution, death (now you know why I don’t like watching the news anymore- I can already tell you what’s on because it’s been on the last 30 years of my life). New channel please.

I’m not angry or bitter (really, I’m not although the tone of this post probably comes across that way). I’m just tired. I’m tired of feeling trapped. I’m tired of being too tired to escape. I’m tired of hoping for change. I’m tired of working so hard just to live like this. I’m tired of being tired. I’m tired of feeling this way.

I had the strangest dream last night. My old 8th grade teacher had given us a photography assignment to capture 4 images of ourselves in everyday objects. I don’t mean literal reflections in objects, but more like symbols, or representations of us in objects.

My one friend started taking pictures immediately, of bright, soft, round objects like fuzzy polka-dotted slippers. She was moving very quickly as if she didn’t need to give the assignment much thought.

I on the other hand didn’t know what to capture. I went walking to think about what I would shoot, and found myself in an abandoned car sitting in the driver’s seat with my legs stretched out towards the passenger side. I was trying to capture the frame of the passenger side window within the shot so that the picture would show that I was inside something looking out. I was aiming the camera at some white flowers that closed up at night (much like tulips). And they were growing along the perimeter of a rusty barrel.

I think I wanted to capture this because I somehow knew the barrel had been placed over the soil where the bulbs of the flowers had been planted, and yet with the barrel there, the flowers were able to still break soil and simply grow around the barrel. I was in total awe of this. And yet, I was taking the picture from inside the car instead of outside in front of the flowers.

A few nights before this I dreamed I was walking along a snow covered path. The snow was fresh and it was very cold. There were trees that lined the right side of the path and a fence behind the trees. On the other side of the fence was a field. On the other side of the path, there was a field and far across the field was a public road, but it was far to get to and nobody would be able to see me from the road.

As I was walking down the path, I recognized a large white and grey wolf ahead of me, also walking on the path, in the same direction as I was so her back was to me. But I knew she would catch wind of my scent as soon as the breeze carried it to her. I was afraid because somehow I knew she had babies somewhere waiting for her, and she was out searching for food.

As soon as this thought crossed my mind I saw the wolf stop walking and turn around to face me on the path. I quickly dove behind a large rock that was along the path in the hopes that she wouldn’t find me because I knew she’d turn around and come looking. As I hid there, I pushed snow around on the ground looking for a large rock. I was searching for any kind of weapon because I was fully aware that I was too far from the road to get help. When I looked up the wolf was facing me, her body prepared to attack. She was growling at me, salivating, and showing her teeth. She wanted me out of there.

But I had found a large rock on the ground and was now holding it in both hands. I knew she was close enough that I could slam the rock down on her head hard enough to either seriously harm her or kill her, which would give me enough time to escape to the main road. But I was torn. Torn because I knew if I killed her, her babies wouldn’t survive. But if I didn’t protect myself, she would attack me. So, I slammed the rock down on her head as hard as I could, and I heard a cry pour out (I don’t know if it was mine or hers). I could see blood on the snow and I immediately felt so guilty that instead of getting up to run towards the road, my eyes began to water. I hurt her, bad. And I was certain she was going to die. I felt too guilty to run but I didn’t know what to do. Then I woke up with a huge knot in my throat.

These dreams seem to have two common themes and a common color as I think about it: White, Being trapped, and survival. The white flowers trapped under the barrel survived by growing around the barrel. I was trapped behind a large rock, face to face with a white wolf. But I survived by killing the wolf. Is my conscience trying to tell me something? Am I simply in survival mode right now?