Most days at work I spend dreaming. Thinking. Constantly thinking…. Trying to manifest this thing inside. This thing that I’ve never seen. Never done. Can’t put into words. Frustrated, as I constantly search for the correct procedure to solve the issue with each case before me on the computer screen. Cracking codes while praying I can crack the code to success in my real life. I know Jesus. I know Him well, knowing that I really only know what He allows my small mind to comprehend. Faith, but no actions. No blueprint. Belief, hope for a brighter day. Day-old pizza, mineral water, and blueberries as Kendrick Lamar blasts in my ears. I feel the terror of being trapped in a concrete jungle as he sings the unspoken words trapped in my conscience. In my mind, he is my brother. James Brown is my uncle. Jill Scott is my big sister. Their lyrics get me through each routine workday, reminding me to keep believing that brighter days are ahead.
Stuck at a nine to five. Slaves to a job in order to pay the bills. Momma and Poppa. Working double shifts. I made it? College degree to become a slave to the time clock, to bills, to student loans? A loan owed for desiring to pursue my dreams. Frustrated. Surrounded by coworkers who have been rooted in the exact same cubicles for the last thirty years. Dreams deferred have caused them to grow bitter. All day long they gossip. Tired. Frustrated. I gaze up to the clock: I’ve completed my sentence for the day. Time to log off, until the routine begins again tomorrow.