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Open Poetry #12
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Dawn's Revelation of Egnimatic Dreams
| Open Poetry #12 |
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Dawn's Revelation of Egnimatic Dreams |
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Effigy Member
since 2000-04-11
Posts 486disbelief 
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I awoke this morning to find myself dead. It is strange how this happens to me so often. But the deadness never stays; it is always gone by the time I get out of bed. It’s too bad, I really enjoy it, death is very relaxing. So anyway off to work I go. “God” I hate my job. How I ever get stuck in such a nowhere, dead end job is beyond me… It’s not even just my job, it’s everything. My whole life is going nowhere, and I'm just along for the ride. But then on certain mornings; sometimes, after I wake up dead in the mornings, I think to myself that maybe, maybe I didn’t wake up dead, maybe I woke up alive. Oh the glory! The glory of maybe being alive! Then maybe I die when I get out of my bed. Therefore this pathetic, going nowhere, job and/or existence of mine is really not real, but some kind of hell or at least a minor purgatory. That thought seems feasible. So at night when I sleep I hope to escape this place of endless stability. I hope to do something different. As I slip into yet another night of restless sleep, I often dream of waking up dead. [This message has been edited by Effigy (edited 01-22-2001).] |
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| © Copyright 2001 wes wiggins - All Rights Reserved | |||
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doreen peri Member Elite
since 1999-05-25
Posts 3812Virginia |
"sometimes, after I wake up dead in the mornings, I think to myself that maybe, maybe I didn’t wake up dead" hehe... well? guess what!? you're not alone... i've had these same thoughts... time for a new job, maybe? good thing is, you're thinking about it, y'know? a strong write here delving into the thought process... a picture of the human condition we all face at times... thanks for the read  (if you're reading this, you aren't dead, btw.. hehe  ) |
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Effigy Member
since 2000-04-11
Posts 486disbelief |
Thnaks for the responce but this poem really has little to do with my job, I in realiety love my job. I was just using the idea of a crappy job to perpetuate the feeling of an unsatisfing reality. THis poem addresses more the question of what is real living. Is it doing what social norms tell you to, or is it something else. Is living doing just what you want? This is a question of living not job satisfaction. |
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mark woolard Member
since 2001-01-02
Posts 143 |
is the question "what is life"? or "what is the point of life"? both will supply enough answers to keep you up 'till sunrise, and then you'll really feel dead! good description of the hum-drum everyday redundancy, though. waking up dead must be a common event. |
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