Disconnection Notice

I arrived at work the way I always do in the morning. Morning isn’t morning when you work a night job, you know, which is unusual. Otherwise, everything was the same as it always was. There is a huge, brightly colored paper sign above the desk next to mine, so that I face it from my cubicle. It says “Goodbye, We Will Miss You”. I thought, how nice of them to put that there for me. It wasn’t for me. One of the day shift workers left today, on maternity leave, and her friends made that for her. They left it up for me. That’s enough, I suppose. After all, I’ve only been passing through.

It seems like I’ve always only been passing through.

I don’t have any real eulogy for my last day of work here, not too many interesting stories to tell, no significant lessons learned. My ass hurts. I never thought I would ever say this, but I miss the light of day. A depressive personality like mine, confined to a cubicle, locked away from the sun, does not fare well. I won’t dwell there. I won’t thrive here. I’m gone.

More than a few people have expressed their astonishment that I ever accepted a post like this one. Why would I work for a monopoly telecommunications corporation? why would I take these hours? Why would I live at home for so long? Why would I do all of these things, in spite of myself, for the money? I suppose you could call it an exercise in hypocrisy. You could say I wanted to “know my enemy”. You could say that, like it or not, I did need the money. I’ve never had any money.

Dumpster diving is chic, couch surfing is oh-so-punk-rock, hell even homelessness was an adventure, of sorts — but I got tired, very tired. Tired isn’t even the word. I was powerfully frustrated with life when life was like that for so long. I needed the pendulum to swing the other way. Already, I feel it has swung too far.

I feel like I’m quitting my life along with this job, and it bothers me that it feels like this job has been my life. It does scare me that I don’t know what’s next, what do do, where to go, who to be, etc. I only let it scare me a little, though.

Whatever comes next, its bound to be more fun than this has been.

Did you get your disconnection notice
mine came in the mail today
they seem to think I’m disconnected
don’t think i know what to read or write or say
glossaries injected daily
words + numbers spell out the price to pay
it simply states, “yr disconnected baby”
see how easily it all slips away

This is no direction
prepare for the city
angels turn on heavens light

Hurry up the stage awaits you
don’t forget memorize yr lines
missed yr mark now we medicate you
out of step just cant find the time
will we pass through undetected
everything right here inside our file
not so free to be unprotected
a secret Mona Lisa hides behind her smile

sonic youth — disconnection notice

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Dylan

Pleased to meet you! I'm Dylan Kinnett, your friendly neighborhood writer.