My First Rejection Letter

The title says it all!

Today, I receieved my first rejection letter.

Some might be devastated at their hard work being shat upon by those more fortunate; those in power; those whom we often refer to as, "The Man".

"The Man" in this case, was in fact, a woman. And though she rejected me, I very much appreciate that she took the time to either write a paragraph to me personally, or to have a personal assistant do it for her and sign her name.

I'm not bitter. It might seem that way, but c'mon, let's not lose sight of things here:

I just conned an A-List literary agent into reading the first part of my book.

Not. Too. Shabby.

Cubicle Monkeys

I don't think this job is good for my blood pressure.

Cubicle monkey, btw, is a misleading term. We don't get to climb, jump around, or throw shit at annoying customers. Which is unfortunate really, because a number of them deserve it.

Unless by "Cubicle Monkey", you mean we're reduced to crazy little rage-beasts that are tapped forever in a man-made cage.

I need to join a gym.

Coming Up

It's not that i'm ignoring you, fair interwebs. It's that sometimes, my common sense gets the better of me and I abandon this sinking ship we call The World and escape to the altogether foreign and most certainly familiar vistas brought to bear in my mind.

Which is to say there are worlds far more interesting than this.

Then again, I ground myself and stow my wings and find I don't mind this place, that face, the race that we call life.

It's calming, in a way. To see the tumultuous fog of everyday cut through with precision or on occasion, abandon, by the choices that we make and all the things we do and say. I find that when it's lifted, the haze is not as all encompassing as our limited gaze might cause us to believe. Trapped so often by the days and unable or unwilling to see beyond the haze.

Coming down is always new.

And at the end it's always you.

That face, that place, those darkened eyes behind the mirror in my head and growing clearer.

But I digress.

Life is either on, or it is off. There is no dimmer switch.

And the light is on inside my room once more.