There are many love songs I haven’t written
but some were written by others
and the songs are
And I feel like falling
all over again
into the sky
where the nightingales spell your name
Where the stars look up to you
from where the moon shines on the strings of your hair
stuck between your lips and mine
And your smile
when you smile
poets feed their works to the fire
readers smoke more cigarettes
wine cellars age twice as fast
and I understand nothing anymore.
Dear Mr. X,
Kindly find attached My CV, cover letter, and application for the 6th time. Let me know if the shadows appearing in the light are swaying where you are. Tell me if they steal another chunk of my impossibly mediocre attempt to work for free under your supervision. I know, I know, you can’t help but be bureaucratic about it; after all you still work under the bigger system where I am a shadow far more intricate and detailed than the ones who have further dimmed their silhouettes to slip through eagerly into that which is unknown.
I know you won’t be reading this email, answering text messages or even walking your own dog because someone else does that for you. I will receive an automated email informing me about what a succesful email it was and how warmly it was received. Knowing that, here’s what I would like you to know about me:
It doesn’t matter if I am employed at a job I love or hate. I will always be the best I could be under the given responsibilities. I would not mind skipping lunch break to get more work done, not because I care about how much work I get done but because as soon as I leave my work and start thinking about my thoughts, I will spiral back into the shadows. Those shadows are not nice entities, and if I lose track of time while hanging out with them, I fear I will no longer be able to satisfy your unpredictable requests. As diabolical as your initial work force ideal is, I will settle down at my desk and uplift your demons back to what they do best. I will greet them and introduce them to more people, get them the best deals in real estate and favor them over people like me.
So you don’t have to worry. The deals will get signed without any adjustments done to the terms. The sheep will remain sheep and the wolves will look at them, selecting the latest weakling to devour at lunch time as I finish the necessary forms for this to be done.
So Dear Mr.X,
All I can thank you for is what you helped me accomplish: Not to become someone I don’t want to be.