I live among workers and mass producers. Chronic caffeine abusers and nicotine doers...Glass ceiling movers and pencil eraser chewers. Those who clock in and out of work to live but are never really living at all. How can you even breathe when your running so fast to catch your breath?
I live among workers and mass producers. "Yes sir and ma'am" procurers, and paper shoving mules. Less human and more clone, always doing what they are told; walk now vs. don't go, stay in line and don't mess up the flow. How do you claim to think when others tell you what you should know?
I live among workers and mass producers. Taxi cab whores and underdog lords...no time off because they can't afford; no real life because they cant endure. Reality is limited to their clipboards, a 9-5 hustle to seek monetary rewards...How can anyone pay you for missing what your future may have had in store?
I'm no ones worker, employee or user. No ones bi-monthly paycheck pursuers, no ones overtime doer. I live for me. Im my best and worst boss - I give it my all and the rewards outweigh the costs. I have no paycheck; the world pays me in always reading and appreciating, hanging on my last work and breathlessly waiting...greatness comes on no ones clock. Theres no 401k, no pension plan, as if those worked; How do you retire from the reason you were born? You don't, you can't, so I wont. I'm no ones worker, employee or user. Shit, this writing thing is my lifetime job. And it's ok; I'm just a slave to words.
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