AdviceNew YorkSlider

Doing What You Have To Do

Updated: Apr 09, 2012 22:44
The Bay's best newsletter for underground events & news

Don’t you wish that you could meet the person(s) responsible for the existence of money… so you could strangle them?  Wouldn’t life be much more stress-free? Sure, bartering would be an equal pain in the ass, but you’d still be living for yourself, instead of somebody else. I understand that it’s wishful thinking on my part, because we do need some type of economy to maintain some order in society. I guess I’m just tired of looking around the trains, buses and the city streets every morning, witnessing people rushing to jobs they don’t want to go to. I’m tired of seeing the person behind the counter, moping around, waiting for their shift to end. I could do without the sales associate assisting me, only because his/her supervisor is in the area. Most of all, I no longer want to see a person’s talent go to waste because their day job is more vital to their survival.

I’ve seen and known gifted people with unmatched skills in their area being forced to live the life of a regular joe, working a nine-to-five just keep food in their belly and some type of roof over their heads. And it’s sad. All of that potential and nothing to show for it, except a bullshit job deducting time away from their true passion. Then there’s the college graduates in a similar scenario. Their fresh-out-of-school faces gets drop-kicked with reality once they find themselves struggling and working the same jobs that they had attempted to avoid. This is evidenced by the YouTube video posted almost a year ago about Maurice Johnson, a homeless man with a Masters Degree in both Plasma Physics and Electrical Engineering. How does that even happen?

Some days you don’t want to go to work, but you have to. Other times, working one job isn’t enough. Some people don’t want to take certain jobs because they feel they’re above doing that type of work. Sometimes those people end up doing things that they don’t want to do. I’ve heard enough stories to leave me numb to the world that we live in. I’ve watched friends and former classmates walk down the only path they felt they could. I no longer see the kids I played with during recess, I now see a jaded soul walking amongst the zombies.

It almost seems like we’ll go down in history as the generation with the lost potential. “The Insomniacs,” that’s what they’ll call us: the generation unable to dream. I can envision the media looking back, asking what happened. We’ll look around and some of us would have avoided the insomnia, others, well, they’ll be sleep deprived. Those of us yearning for sleep will whisper, “I did what I had to do.” Guess what? There’s still time. Just close your eyes and do what you want to do.

Photo credit:””></a></em>

Broke-Ass Stuart works because of reader support. Join us now.

Howdy! My name is Katy Atchison and I'm an Associate Editor for Broke-Ass Stuart.

I want to take the time to say thank you for supporting independent news media by reading Supporting independent news sources like Broke-Ass Stuart is vital to supporting our community because it amplifies the voices of a wide variety of diverse opinions. You also help support small businesses and local artists by sharing stories from Broke-Ass Stuart.

Because you're one of our supporters, I wanted to send over a pro-tip.

Our bi-weekly newsletter is a great way to get round ups of Broke-Ass Stuart stories, learn about new businesses in The Bay Area, find out about fun local events and be first in line for giveaways.

If you’d like to get our newsletter, signup right here, it takes 5 seconds.

Previous post

In Defense of Instagram

Next post

Tales of My Foot Phobia

Enrique Grijalva - Mr. Minimum Wage

Enrique Grijalva - Mr. Minimum Wage

My father came, my mother saw...and I conquered. I encourage children to do drugs, I buy alcohol for teenagers, and I drink beer with the homeless. In my spare time, I attend art galleries for the FREE booze while rubbing elbows with modish elephants. I also hammer six-inch nails into small penises. Stuart knighted me as Broke-Ass King of New York. You've been warned.