Monday, July 25, 2005
Revolutions
Work is most pointless, at best.
Yes, that's right. I've had it with work and warrants and methamphetamine abusers and parentless children. There's really nothing in it. See, I show up everyday and push these papers around and arrest people and type my little notes in the computer and it does nothing. This is just silly. Is most work like this? I mean, do educators feel this way? Data analysts? How about doctors? I would hope not, but there it is...nothing ever changes, no matter how many warrants I write, no matter how many treatment centers I recommend, no matter how many people I discharge. There will always be more.
Some might call me depressed about my job, and I think they are right. I think I am also being a realist. I think I'm burnt out. At 26. I'm burnt out at 26. That's still relatively young.
I was thinking to myself last night, as I watched yet another news report about a terrorist bombing, haven't the terrorists kind of lost the message in all this? I mean, a bomb in Egypt. What does it mean? Is it the Palestinians? The Israelites? The Muslims? Al-Queda? Who knows?? An innocent Brazilian is shot in London, and for what? We're not quite sure. There's this horrible hopelessness involved in all this...we're going through motions but we're not sure why. Hence, my paragraph about work. How silly it is that I'm here, at work, when I could be planting a garden, finding something useful to do with myself. For a paycheck...my God.

I read the news today, oh boy...about a lucky man who made the grade.
And tho' the news was rather sad, well, I just had to laugh
I saw the photograph....HE BLEW HIS MIND OUT IN A CAR...
He didn't notice that the lights had changed
A crowd of people stood and stared...

History repeats itself in such mundane ways. We should have learned, my fellow readers. By now, we all should know something better than this anger and this death.

Ah, but this is just a blog...a blog in the big wide world of information...and pointless, at that.

"Hope is a thing with feathers"
-Emily Dickinson
Written by FRITZ
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Name: Fritz

Location: Detroit Rock City!
Where the weak are killed and eaten

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    We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Through the unknown, unremembered gate When the last of earth left to discover Is that which was the beginning; At the source of the longest river The voice of the hidden waterfall And the children in the apple-tree Not known, because not looked for But heard, half-heard, in the stillness Between two waves of the sea. Quick now, here, now, always— A condition of complete simplicity (Costing not less than everything) And all shall be well and All manner of thing shall be well When the tongues of flame are in-folded Into the crowned knot of fire And the fire and the rose are one. -T.S. Eliot "Little Gidding"

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