Where Is My True Work?

Dear Human,
My messiah complex is basically an exaggerated, unrealistic, and totally unfocused job search. Holy crap, Batman! I’m not willing to numb the pain by reaching for that extra cookie today. I know that sugar and flour won’t fix the problem.
My job or business, whatever it is, is that happy intersection between my passion and your needs and desires. Like me, you are an emotional animal disguised as a so-called “normal person”. Like me, you crave for love and work and romance and friendship and chocolate and cats and techie gizmos… ok, at least two of these! Chances are, you are a white Indian. Or else African or perhaps Latino. Or just a space alien! Ha, ha!
Whatever makes you cry and go crazy and want to pull your hair out by the roots, chances are, I or someone else have faced the same shit. Uh, oh… bad word! I’m not ready to pull the plug. My secret to overcoming death, is KEEP BREATHING!
You’re a stranger. You have a heart. You have a sense of humor. I hope! You’re probably not a psychopath. A psychopath is basically a guy with messy hair and buggy eyes dancing down a path, wearing tattered and dirty clothes, a very dull brown or black, dressed much like a street person, and acting like a terrorist…. ok, a mentally ill person. Scary, but not too obnoxious. Let’s hope he at least smells recently showered! So he won’t stink up the BART car. God bless them all. The mentally ill. Sure ain’t easy being called one.
I need to stay productive. Or else I’ll lose my mind!
Oh, and universe…. thanks for that erotic dream! I needed that uplift!

love, Linda, whoever I am….


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