{being another responce filed neatly for my own ego}
Run for the Dawn said...
Here may be some respite:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Unbearable_Lightness_of_Being
I'm staggered, this place we're leaving has been such an amorphus psychic space, such an unfogivable burden that we perpetuate...
i think i have some insight into how dae feels about his catholicism, except you know, without the whole born and raised and daily reconfirmed aspect.
i'm glad i feel something though, not just the scrambling need to make a mark, to show we were ever there (claire) or the petulent mumblings of "i told you so" (burden, whoops, i mean budden)
and you know, it's a complete erasure of our years and years of work, like we never existed. we'll pass unmourned into a faint memory of those who we touched lightly over the years. I've written 3 manuals that will never be used again, deleted with a single click.
but i'm at peace with this erasure, it's part of my life that i'm so very happy will be packed away neatly into a beautiful little box, sitting in the corner of my study. a square little thing with raised pink paisley motifs on cream linen cardboard, wrapped in gilt, vivid red ribbon.
scented of mint and old paper.
when you open it the sound of the lid coming away is that reassuring hush and sigh of firm cardboard, almost crisp, like sound of your lips coming apart as you exhale clove tobacco smoke.
and inside will be the most pristine, perfectly formed turd.
like something out of a joke shop window,
only the stench of it kicks you so powerfully in the back of your throat that you're afraid to ever breathe again.
a sacred momento morai, letting me feel that magpietown were some dream i had, only to awaken a much younger man, in a distant place, with a head full of memories that aren't quite mine.
August 12, 2010 9:55 AM
Here may be some respite:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Unbearable_Lightness_of_Being
I'm staggered, this place we're leaving has been such an amorphus psychic space, such an unfogivable burden that we perpetuate...
i think i have some insight into how dae feels about his catholicism, except you know, without the whole born and raised and daily reconfirmed aspect.
i'm glad i feel something though, not just the scrambling need to make a mark, to show we were ever there (claire) or the petulent mumblings of "i told you so" (burden, whoops, i mean budden)
and you know, it's a complete erasure of our years and years of work, like we never existed. we'll pass unmourned into a faint memory of those who we touched lightly over the years. I've written 3 manuals that will never be used again, deleted with a single click.
but i'm at peace with this erasure, it's part of my life that i'm so very happy will be packed away neatly into a beautiful little box, sitting in the corner of my study. a square little thing with raised pink paisley motifs on cream linen cardboard, wrapped in gilt, vivid red ribbon.
scented of mint and old paper.
when you open it the sound of the lid coming away is that reassuring hush and sigh of firm cardboard, almost crisp, like sound of your lips coming apart as you exhale clove tobacco smoke.
and inside will be the most pristine, perfectly formed turd.
like something out of a joke shop window,
only the stench of it kicks you so powerfully in the back of your throat that you're afraid to ever breathe again.
a sacred momento morai, letting me feel that magpietown were some dream i had, only to awaken a much younger man, in a distant place, with a head full of memories that aren't quite mine.
August 12, 2010 9:55 AM
posted by Run for the Dawn | 5:01 PM
3 Comments:
Dear god, I love your way with words!
Give one of the bubbles-boxes an affectionate kick from me, and I will see you several years ago in November. :)
RFTD...wow! This sure packs a punch: Everything vanishing but the turd!
I feel differently. My thoughts put me in mind of the end of Mervyn Peake's "Gormenghast":
"...But out of the silence, that hung at his shoulder blades, he heard her voice. It was not loud. It was not hurried.
'There is nowhere else,' it said, 'You will only tread a circle... There's not a road, not a track, but it will lead you home.'"
*
I don't mean to say you're not escaping the dross of Magpie Town (you are) or that nothing will ever be better (it will) but rather that the elements and the chemicals that combined to create the bio-weapon that was "Magpie Town Widgets" are readily available in all workplaces. I promise you: You will see the forms repeating. Maybe I agree with Nietzsche after all.
In each workplace there are the same archetypes: the intransigent, the avoidant, the flippant, the numb, the girlish, the paranoid, the moralistic... I really don't think this was a one-off. I think this was a cautionary tale, designed to warn us against future calamities.
The lovely Maria once compared her job to a meaningless computer game. "Each day," she explained, "you just have to play the game. And if you get a job done, you've gone up a level, and when you go home: that's a win!" Well, this is game over - we have completed all the levels.
The next time we play, we'll know how to get through it.
*
RFTD, I would say that while you've spent plenty of time in the workplace, you've never been wholly of it - you have always had "a few pots on the boil," and other relationships to reflect upon. This has been a great gift to me - I keep seeing the outside world reflected in your eyes when we work together, and it helps me to stay real.
That, and your anarchic sense of humour has always undermined the seriousness of the entrepreneurial enterprise.
As a New Ager, I'm also very much interested that your departure from Magpie Town altogether coincides almost precisely with the dissolution of this workplace. You see? Without you, it really is nothing! Have I just been a side-character in your nightmare?
*
I am afraid of the future. I don't mean to be, but I am. I could celebrate an end to the injustices that have become my working normality... but I don't know whether I believe I've changed. Have I changed?
And, worse, you mention that our workplace was an unforgiveable burden... I feel that too. Can I be forgiven for it? Is there a salvation somewhere for me, where all that effort can be suddenly spiritualised into a sparkling skill set that will make a lasting difference? Will my next team like me? Will my next team pay me well?
*
That line from Gormenghast (there is nowhere else) is going round and round in my head. In 2008 I went and worked elsewhere and realised that I had learned all I need to know about toxic relationships from my first job. But after I had settled in, and learned the new skills, and filled out my new shape... still it felt like the same place, with the same emotional retardants.
*
I wouldn't mind a few "I told you so" T-shirts though. I think I could enjoy wearing one of those - if only for a few weeks.
*
Work would've been shit without you RFTD. Thank you for helping us all get through it. I think that you, at least, can be forgiven. Love, Martin.
*
ps Burgess the Shetland Pony who is reading over my shoulder has just offered the donation of a turd for your glory box. I've told him no because he had Dhal for lunch and it will be too runny, but let me know if you're still interested.
ah, our little gang of three....
i love this space we have to create amongst friends, our covens little cove of the internet.
things will indeed be interesting once the pond is jumped, here's hoping that i can make a splash where i land
i love this literary life
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