Boundaries: a return, a stench, powerless

A few weeks ago I wrote something. Totally out of the blue really. It just feverishly came out of me one day. At the time I wrote it, I was applying for jobs in the corporate world. A stench of failure permeated. In an attempt to avoid the smell, I wrote something. I don’t know what you’d call it… a poem, a random tidbit, an emotional dumping? I honestly don’t know. Perhaps it’s not important to label.

 

If I go back to the corporate world… have I failed?

I don’t know if I can do it… but I don’t know what the alternative is…

I can’t keep being nomadic; I know this much. It’s stressful. And it feels like escape. Problems arise? Just leave. That’s not resolution. That’s not resolve.

I can’t keep living without boundaries, I know this much. But I don’t know yet how to properly set them.

I can’t be a corporate dickwad. Small-talk, bull shit emails. The inauthenticity of it all. Playing games but not admitting to playing games. I feel it all. It’s exhausting.

Work to save, to work some more. It’s not right. I am human. Not robot.

If I don’t believe in something, I can’t motivate myself to do it. No one can. If I do believe in something, I struggle to motivate myself to do it, unless there is someone to share it with.

The choice is mine. The power is mine. Why then, do I feel so powerless?

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