Two Things

Two Things, or What I Said to the Bank One Day

1. So you are com­ing for me now? There is no shapeshift­ing from you and really it‘s just busi­ness any­way. I, teth­ered to a mirage, float­ing on some Amer­i­can dream of itself. The promise of plenty is based on the always inward, always self­ish, always nonex­is­tent myth. At least own that you man­u­fac­ture that. You don‘t make any­thing I can hold, but you do make up sto­ries, right? I bought my slice of the pie and now you are tying me to this log of a lie while the mirage of hap­pi­ness floats to light. The real thing was never a part of this. I missed that. My bad.

2. What you see float­ing is the shapeshift­ing me sim­ply leav­ing this story behind. I am not abdi­cat­ing any­thing, not run­ning, not not doing some­thing. What is hap­pen­ing here is that the Me you seek is not the per­son I am. I am not inhab­it­ing the space that you take up with paper­work and dead­lines and threats, which are really all just busi­ness, and I know you love your work. My lack of expe­ri­ence and spe­cial­ized knowl­edge led to pre­dictable, unwor­thy alliances. Come for me and find what you came for but it won‘t be me. I will still be here, right in front of you, hav­ing just left on the next float­ing thing out of here.