My brain is a lump of nothing

I came down with a cold over the weekend. It’s great, as I know that the weather is getting warmer, that the buds are popping out of the freshly tilled earth. I called in sick today. In my banking days, no way, sick or no, I’d get my ass up and be there for 16 hours. But now, I realize I get nothing from working for others. And I get nothing from business. Business is all hucksterism. Marketing is appealing to the masses, even if they are ignorant, intolerant and dumb.  I guess I’m a washed up business person. I have no love for it, no passion for it. All I see are angels with broken wings sitting lonely behind glass walls, feebly wailing for purpose to no avail. I see the sounds of nothing, back and forth, arguing for nothing, pleasing no one, and achieving nothing in the infinitesimal moments of happenings.

I woke up today with a severe headache, emailed in sick and attempted to sleep again. Work invaded my thoughts: people to call, people to appease, work to be done, tasks to be itemized. I felt my brain burst from the pressure of it all, and the tremendous vibrations of sadness crept next to me. I pictured my head opening up and the contents pouring out, the candy pink liquid oozing out of the brain, carrying with it all the anger and nitpicked worries of things undone. The more my brain washed away, the lighter my head felt, and it tipped upwards until the Peptol Bismol flowed inwards again, until the throbbing began again. I had to concentrate with my entire mind to restart the expunging process, draining myself of all thoughts and expectations. Again and again and again.