Whichever you aspire to be called…
The title is irrelevant when compared to this request:
Might you spare some time of day,
Of that precious happen-stance you call living?
To share your secrets, to offer explanation…
How did you find that seeming bliss?
For there you are, about your daily doings,
Happily muddling, passionate toiling,
Feeling excitement, gravity, and solitude all the same.
How have you regulated the forces of emotion?
How did you come to acquire contentment?
Could it be found in identity, internal personality, some fallacy of social approval?
For I know not who I am but I am aware of my presentation.
Surely it might be found in that check you receive bi-monthly,
From the holder of the leash that keeps you walking forward?
Tell me then, what of employment did derive this appearance of happiness?
Was it of the work environment? Is this where we might unearth purpose?
But you want to buy things, yes, beauty caveats and artifacts of recreation There is no shame in grinding out paychecks for made-up subsistence
For I too play a game a wealth but I’m not destined to win at
No, don’t tell me how to “cheat this system”
I don’t care for discounts, subscriptions, nor a coupon-clipping existence
I want simplicity without the requirements
But yet come taxes and demands for insurance, after all
Money is the drought of this existence