This world threw me away
This world never gave me a chance
This world’s gonna have to pay
Something inside of me has opened up it’s eyes
Why did you put it there did you not realize
This thing inside of me it screams the loudest sound
Sometimes I think I could
I’m gonna burn this whole world down"
** Nine Inch Nails, "Burn"
Now, now... don't fret, my faithful blogomaniacs. I'm not about to go on any homicidal rampage here and take out a small Amish community.
I had a friend in college named Peder. Yes, "Peder" with a "D". He was from Denmark or something so it made sense. During our freshman year... in fact, the first weekend of school... he somehow developed an unhealthy obsession with a girl in our dorm hall. To get through it, he would often sit in the dark and listen to Nine Inch Nails.
He would be proud of me for letting Trent Reznor express my emotions so this one's for Peder wherever he is.
I hate being all dark and brooding to you guys. I know you like the happy-go-lucky Chris who writes about his Vince Vaughn manlove and old WWF angles... but that's just not me today.
There are days in this world when you wake up... you look in the mirror... and you wonder where it all went wrong, where you took the wrong turn in life.
I shouldn't say that. For the most part, I love my life. I love my girlfriend, I love my friends... I even love my family occasionally. I love where I live... I love- whatever, you get the gist of it.
But I hate my job.
Even that's not entirely true. The people here? I love these people. For the most part, they're good people with good hearts that mean well. They're interesting people to talk to and learn from. They're a diverse group who make you wonder what'll happen from day to day. As much as this place is an abysmal hell, you'd think they'd all be shells of humanity, just floating along this river of shit until they wash up on shore. They're not. They're vibrant human beings who, for the most part, deserve worlds better than the life they've settled for.
This job breaks you. It breaks you physically, mentally, and spiritually. It does not rest until it owns you. As much money as the man who owns this company has, he will not truly be happy until he owns the mind, body, and soul of every person in this building.
He can't have mine.
You hear me, you wrinkled old fuck? You can't have mine.
You can have the others'. Those that you're determined to drive into retirement with nothing but dreams of what should have been and a Wal-Mart greeter job. Those that you essentially scare into staying because they've got a wife and kids they can barely support as is.
Those people may not feel that they have a choice.
But I do.
You want me? Come get me. I don't think you can do it.
In fact, you sick fuck... when you decide to make the effort, come on down so I can tell you to kiss my undercarriage as I kick you in the nuts repeatedly and walk right out the door.
I'm done. It's over. Let me out.
Show me the door. Walk me into the light. Take me back onto the path of righteous men.
Free me from the hell that I've put myself in for nearly four years.
I want out.
Get me my forty acres and a mule cause I'm fuckin' free at last.
By the way, can someone lend me my rent money?
Sigh. Better go. Another customer needs my help.
Song I'm Listening To Currently: Nothing! My iPod is out of juice!
Book I'm Reading Currently: "Eragon" by Christopher Paolini
Movie I Last Saw: The Chronicles of Narnia
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