Depending on who you are, the words "Corporate America" can bring up different images in your mind. For some, a man in a successful business suit smiling as he leaves his job comes to mind. For others, they envision the clock in and clock out way of life that suffocates and distorts a person's dreams. Many other images of the very concept of "Corporate America" exist in media. I think fondly of shows like Mad Men or The Office. It's all a part of the rite of passage when entering the workforce to become engrossed in what the corporations of America have to offer you; I think the real question should be what can you offer them?
Grunge was something fierce in the 90’s, but the hype had to die at some point, which really sucks. It was invented -or created, or dug up, who really knows-in the mid 80’s because everyone in this country had problems then, but surprisingly in early 90’s, it sparked huge attention to bands like Nirvana or Sublime. It’s so weird because no one under the president had anything to complain about; mortgage was okay, the deficit was at a minimum and gas didn’t cost an arm/leg deposit.
That is the word language in the four languages that I can either speak proficiently, or am learning. English, French, Esperanto, and Japanese. I like to learn languages because I feel like it opens doors for me not only other countries, but also other worlds. You can visit a country without knowing their language, but you can’t truly know the country without knowing it.
An anonymous quote I found read, “Today – I will. Tomorrow – I will. There is no muse. There is only me, and what I do or do not do.” I think this applies to writing in many ways. We always tell ourselves when and what we’re going to write, if you’re anything like myself. Also if you’re anything like myself, you know this doesn’t work. Any time I set aside a time for myself to write, I feel forced. I feel pressured, I feel like I can’t do it.
I feel myself writing the most when I’m not happy. I know this sounds crazy, but it is absolutely true. I write the most when I’m feeling sad, anxious, or even furious. The last thing I want to do when I’m happy is writing. I just feel like sometimes artwork doesn’t come out of happiness.
Ah, the most wonderful time of the year. Jingling bells decking the halls and driving me directly up the side of the wall with their bothersome yuletide carols. The snowing and bustling traffic that plagues the people of the interstate tears families apart more often than the times that they bring the families together; and who is to blame them for having to read the same exact things every thirty minutes.