Oh compass rose, tell me which direction I may go. Oh compass rose, guide me to where I should go. Oh compass rose, be my oars in this violent sea. Oh compass rose, point to a direction, any direction… for I have lost myself. I … Continue reading A Compass Rose
Month: December 2015
Clarity of the Night
There is an obvious oxymoron in the title of this. As the sun sets and the city stars suddenly blink on, the mind falls into a clouded pit. The haze is evident in vision, as well as all the other senses. Decisions made, oh decisions … Continue reading Clarity of the Night
Fervent Desires, A Scorching Warmth?
There is a hasty nature to music composition that act both as an attractive and elusive force. Entire sections of melodies come pouring through my fingers onto the keys of the piano. Sometimes, my handwriting fails to keep up with this pace. Other times, my … Continue reading Fervent Desires, A Scorching Warmth?
Clouded Confusion
I write with music playing in the background: I rarely do. Though Rachmaninoff’s second piano concerto is fitting for my emotions. It is a mixture of intensity and murkiness. I want to express these emotions. Though their expression requires a sort of unprecedented introspection. Perhaps … Continue reading Clouded Confusion
Supposed Due Diligence
When we do work, for whom do we do it? Such a question has an entire facade of answers, many of which are shallow attempts to answer such a hard-hitting question. We might do work for the sake of ourselves, others, or there is no purpose. For ourselves, we work for our own satisfaction. We desire achievement and success, and from such successes we stroke our own egos. We might also do work to avoid embarrassment, inflicted by the self or by others. The latter two are the more interesting topics to be discussed. What if we do work for others, or do work with no purpose at all? One could argue that doing work is simply going with the flow of society, integrating the self and aligning the mind with societal ideals. Though I stop to question my intentions, as I desire to find a reason behind all the intricate details of my actions. Such a topic can be upheld for future discussion, for what I seek to discuss here is the possibility of working for others.
When we work for others, we lose the personal satisfaction we gain from working for the self. We begin to feel increasingly disconnected with the work that we do. The ultimate product will be far inferior that if one worked for oneself. Such disgusting intentions is can be mirrored in the methods in which we work. Those people who work for others are highly inefficient at work and find work to be a topic of disgust. They vex over it with astonishing constancy. They lose sleep over it, only to be less productive during the day. The logic behind productive work seems to be entirely absent in such people. Though, one thing is for certain. They all claim to be doing work, and they all claim that work is important.
If work is of such importance, why is it that sleep is lost during the time in which one should sleep, and sleep is gained during the time in which one should work? This offset is of utmost confusion and is one of the great unanswered questions of human behavior. It is stunning to see such people not realize their inefficiencies and mistakes, fundamental mistakes which hinder the work that they do. Mistake after mistake, poor performance after poor performance, when will they realize that their current framework of approaching work is flawed and a new system must be introduced? Perhaps it is denial at play. Perhaps the denial enables them to be blind to such an oversight.
Such inefficiencies amplify itself. A lack of sleep leads to further inefficiencies during the day. Such a lethargic mood simply feeds itself and a positive-feedback loop manifests.
Unrequited Expectations: A Story of Hopeless Hope
The desire for perfection is constantly vying itself, unable to be controlled and consciously stopped. Though such high expectations do more harm than good, for they seem to act as shackles as I try freeing myself from such an irony. These desires, these beautiful desires, … Continue reading Unrequited Expectations: A Story of Hopeless Hope