Upon deciding to drop everything and move to the other side of the world in pursuit of a dream, a little musing on events of the past was in order. While reflecting on my work career, I came to the horrifying realisation that in 6 years of working on and off in the nightlife, I was ending my career in exactly the same position I had begun. I was and still am a glass collector, irrespective of wage, perks of the job, work environment or quality of fellow staff. Leading almost a double life for half that time, I was infinitely more confident (if even now, still not assured) in my performance in the gym. Through sheer force of will I was able to gain the respect of hardened professional athletes, world champions, Tough Turks and Menacing Morrocans, yet I was virtually incapable of functioning in my professional life. Everytime it was the same: I would shy away from any assumption of responsibility for fear of failure in the face of even the most banal tasks. Skulking in the shadows, seeping into cracks and, most shamefully, displaying the visage of a simpleton to my superiors and colleagues so as to prevent anything but the most basic manual labour being thrust on my shoulders. A human dump truck, loading and unloading. Repeat ad nauseam. Ad nauseam indeed. For in that time I have been growing, growth sustained by the same will power that has continually earned me the respect that I once felt I had no right to receive and now (beautiful now!) having stepped from the shadows, a blinding clarity of thought has enveloped me (beautiful me!!) as I realise that no longer am I petrified by the cold gaze of fear and as I face down what I understand to be an overriding, overwhelming, all consuming ambition and reach for nothing less than the edge of the universe; I understand, implicitly, that every single person on this planet deserves the same.
Posted on: Wed, 03 Sep 2014 08:53:50 +0000
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