help wanted

such a dreariness, a weariness, a bitterness, and yes, a bile, consumes me at work. How I wish I had thicker skin to shield me from the insults and indignities and other gestures of utter disrespect becoming increasingly manifest at my job. I never ever could have imagined that my longest stint of employment would be in the most toxic of environments for me.

And this toxicity is is blurring my vision, focus and drive to be cleansed of it.

It feels as if I am being tested in some way. There must be some simple steps I can take to maintain my integrity, to liberate me from further denigration… to find some positive feedback from the world, to thaw out my frozen heart, even gradually.

But again, I question if I am the one who is putting out something into the world that fortifies this sense of stuckness. It’s not Them, it’s me.

The Oracle had warned me about this trap of feeling as if I am constantly put on trial… that I am failing to live up to some test. Yet I experience too much self-reproach to have room for self-pity, thank god.

But tonight I hit a bit of a wall.

I am flummoxed.

When I arise tomorrow, I will strive for the courage I need to truly be authentic and present… but here is one instance when I realize that I might have to ask for help. But from whom and in what form?

This is the part where I turn off the computer and yield to the currents of my dreams. which hopefully make more sense than my awake time… hoping that I will be visited by signs. maybe possibly sign after sign, like that Cyndi Lauper song.

Actually, rather than wait for the signs, I am guessing that I must the one who must create them, and maybe that’s where I need your help.

So please, pledge now!

About The Lost Pedestrian

In my wanderings throughout the moments/days/years, I try in earnest to find the mystical within the mundane and the mundane within the mystical, oftentimes confusing one from the other. I have wandered and roamed through many a city, many a town, in a state of wonder and bewilderment, without necessarily going anywhere. I am easily lost, but eventually found. (I am guessing you have just found me). My sincere hope is that you will find Something in this warehouse of thought, memory and false memory, words, numbers, tangents, murmurs, echoes (lots and lots of echoes), voices, dreams, and other paraphernalia.
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