Professional: One Rambling Idiot's Thoughts

A funny thought struck me: I can do "professional." I get the idea of professionalism. That ain't no thang.

Most of the time, I'd just rather not.

See, in my mind, I equate professionalism with being fake. Because, honestly, life isn't professional. Shit happens and that shit frequently sucks. Life doesn't just smooth over. Life isn't smooth. But to behave professionally means that we must pretend that everything is smooth, or everything will be smooth.

The dude that walks around work and the dude that appears when 5:33pm hits are totally different cats. I don't even think they know each other. They don't know each other, but I can tell you one thing: they don't like each other.

I really dislike that in order to get ahead most of the time in this world, you've got to put on the face, pretend that everyone is respectable and on the same page, pretend that everyone else isn't out there just to get theirs, pretend that I'm not out just to get mine... blah, blah, blah.

That makes it sound horribly... but I can frame it differently. Professionalism allows me to be one-dimensional. You get a tiny, minute piece of who I am as a person. You get only what the rules and societal constricts allow me to present as a person that is also "professional."

That's not me any more than page 253 is an entire story out of a book full of 3,897 pages.

I dunno where I'm going with this. I just felt like rambling and getting something out... There is definitely a beginning, but there is no end. So I best just end it right here...

It is what it is.

I promised myself I'd be writing more, and I haven't been. I don't really have anything to say, I guess. Actually, just not when I sit down to write. That's when I seem to lack things to say. Driving home in the car, driving to work, in the shower, as I'm drifting to sleep, I think of a million things that might be interesting. I think of shit I'd like to speak on or just share my opinion (even if nobody else gives a shit). But then I actually have time to do some writing and... NOTHING. Diarrhea. That's it.

With that in mind, I think I'll write something just to write something. A nice, stupid, short, little poem. Just to stimulate the creative cells, I reckon. Here goes nothing.

Fortitude
It be what it be.
No simpler a phrase could sum it all up.
It be what it be.
Don't bother giving a fuck.
It be what it be.
No use in trying to change.
It be what it be be.
You're stuck being weird, ugly, strange.

It be what it be.
Take comfort in the constant.
It be what it be.
You can't make sense out of pure nonsense.
It be what it be.
Your life is shit, so just accept it.
It be what it be.
Leave it unguarded, no need for protection.

It be what it be.
Give up, don't fight it, defeat is relentless.
It be what it be.
You'll never win, so why stress?
It be what it be,
Accept your loss and pick up what pieces you can find.
It be what it be.
Just move on and stop wasting your time.

It be what it be.

-AWW