Did the creativity lay the egg of passion, by the genius that lived in your rib wall? 

I marry my job.

I marry my job, like in the order that I fall in love with the idea of the fantasies that it can bring to me

that it was destiny that brought us together, that if I didn’t walk into that place that one day at that exact time, that I would have never gotten the opportunity that it could bring me.

I fall in love with my job, the way I carefully dress in the way that it can love the way I look, and everyone there can compliment me on my appearance, that I look exactly as the position of the job needed me to look.

I somehow now totally fit in. And I totally fit in with the picture of you, and I totally fit in with the picture of me with you, here and now.

An idea turns into smitten love, that turns into passion.

I then find passion in what I do, because it becomes an obsession to me about how greatly in detail I work hard and dedicate so much time. How I dedicate so much of me to it.

I marry my job, and sign a contract to significate a mutual agreement to it. That it will provide for me, and I provide all my time and effort into it. Dedicate every ounce of my body and all my wits end meets with my passion for my job – to my job.

It cheats on me. It shows me favoritism, and it’s not me. I am not it’s highest mighty greatest love of all Whitney Houston style.

It shows me how I am not the only one, and that I can never be the only one.

That I am not the one that they are willing to spend their days with, and that I am not the one that they will dedicate their life for.

So what am I doing this for? I ask myself.

I don’t care anymore, I must not like this anymore. I must have moved on.

It’s time to find a job I can enjoy, and spend true time with. Someone who takes me seriously, someone who share so much love and passion for me, as  I do it.

Do I even have passion for this job or task anymore? No, I must not.

I must not, because this job makes me feel like I can’t wait to clock out, to not be standing next to it, yet alone in it.

I hate it here, and I start the process of divorce.

There is no need to even ask myself if this is the right thing for me to do, because I just know that it is. I have no passion, I feel nothing, and I know I deserve to feel good, and passionate again.

I believe..I believe I do deserve to feel…to feel something?

I question it, because it’s a hard notion for me to question if I should feel, let a lone what I should feel.

I’m numb, and so I do not perform. Not well, and some days not at all.

I think about my past lovers. About my past passions. About my past obsessions.

We’ve been down tis road before. It almost feels like an endless avenue of dead-ends, and the shops on side of the road continue to change, yet it is the same dead-end road.  Yes, I am now starting to recognize it. I see the scuff marks, probably made by me too many times. Made by the many different types of shoes I’ve worn in the past through these relationships of marriages in my past jobs.

I see the converse sneakers track, I see the Nike check mark, I see the stilleto heals I wore to the salon, then the high-wedged boots, or the short fake leather style boot, or the open-toe flat sandals worn to the other salon where I became a stylist, to even these unique Earth version like brand that were randomly choosen but were very comfortable Mary-Jane style for my first teaching gig.

I see all these marks, and all the different jobs, and all the different marriages I went through.

I ran away from many, and most with another lover already in place and in my arms before I even submitted the slips of divorce papers to leave.

I was hurt, and then I got even. And then I found new passions, new ways to love, and experiences that brought joy to me during the days I was there.

There was even a time where I married people who were not qualified for my love, and I never found passion with them. Can you imagine being in a marriage without passion? Wow, what a shame for a human being to be in. And maybe that’s what you want people to do – to find and see the shame in it and save this human.

Some people just want to be saved. They can even pray on the weak, as they desire to be saved. But they actually don’t want to be saved by the ones they prey on.

And then sometimes you are alone. You get divorced. You stay in the space and time alone, without a lover that gives you passion or not.

Sometimes you go back to your ex, because they are always close by. Always in the close rearview mirror space, and always ready to take you back. They might show you that saving grace type of love and energy as soon as you cave into them. But they don’t understand you need that for much longer than just the first two weeks, before they go back to their old selves of excuses and laziness with a lack of support that they have no clue how to give you.

You just think about how great the passion was, and how could it have been before and yet not here right now anymore?

Then I think to myself, is that why I love – I get married to my job, and before the signs of my first true love, before it cheated on me, and before it gave me nothing back in return..is that why I love, leave, and divorce my jobs?

Since jobs are so well connected to passion and tasks that make you happy, this is what also happens with my creatives.

I see that when I want something, someone, when there is a lack of love in one area of my life, I search for it in my careers.

When did the last time passion give up on me? When did passion abuse their boundaries, and when did passion become cheap, fast, and easy?

When did I start turning to cheap, fast, easy, and unthreatening? When did my work overlay my passion, and my passion became a marriage?

I am alone right now. I have been alone for almost one month. I lied. I decided to create jobs from my own self. I decided to sell myself. Is that what it would be called when you try to make it on your own? To work for your own self?

You sell yourself. Why does it feel so cheap and lonely here? Even though there are so many people on each corn of these blocks, for miles long. You can see them selling their minds, bodies, and souls.

And for what? What do we do when we work for ourselves and sell ourselves? And why do so many people make it look so good? So enticing.

And when did working for another person become so detrimental to our health? Why do we no longer want to help and give love to others when we are in this marriage? Are we really tainted so much with even the pure chance of the possibility of an ounce of the past repeating itself that we stay clear from ever working for someone ever again?

I think about support, and what it presents to us in a relationship. Any type of relationship.

I recently took my marriage of my job in the same space as my home, where I rest my head. Actually it happened to me about 3 golden years ago. I felt like I was exposing myself to my inner self.

That my self as part of my marriage to my job became in correlated and intertwined into the meaning of who I am. That is then the moment that I started to ask myself “Who Am I?”

And since I was working from home, every aspect of all my cargo trains of my past self came wheeling around with me on all the twists and turns and I believe has now come to a complete stop. As the conductor of this train, I stopped and all the cargo trains just crashed into me – into my back. The people who stare at this train wreck I call myself can now read and see all the different marriages of jobs I have posted all over me – crashed into me. Because I can not see clearly anymore, and my ex keeps calling me and I have no passion, and my passion left me years ago and I now go around asking people “WHAT should I do? What is my passion? Who even am I anymore without my passion for my job? Does this mean since I’ve lost passion in my job, or my job lost passion for me, does that me I should no longer live here ?” like a beggar asking for money, but everyone just sees her as a desperate, filthy beggar just trying to take what they already have and earned to so hard to do and get to. As they ignore you or walk away in disgust like ” You have no job? No passion to bring to your marriage? What are you even doing here anymore? Get. A. Life.”

I was suggested today that I should just be a “stay at home” type of human who only cares for the space of the property without getting paid to work in a job that I have passion for. How unfair. How selfish. How much she has the upper hand right now, that I feel so much smaller due to not being married to a job right now.

But I refuse to marry another job I have no future with. No reason to commit, no sense to an underlying passion.

I was told yesterday that people don’t marry their jobs for passion anymore. That they do it for comfort, for a need to survive, for a want to feel authoritative. These are the people who have never seen magic in their work. Who are too scared to seek the spark of joy in the marriage they give to their job. The spark of joy they can see in their job gives back to them, and in them as they create that spark.

I was also told yesterday that I don’t have to, in essence, be married to a job that I am unhappy in, even if I created it. I guess then that would be a creation. That I do not know to create, give birth to, and continue to see it grow. I can abort it, set it free, or give it away if I want to.

But jobs are not like children, and they are not like marriages. Whatever children and marriages may be, I don’t hold true knowledge as to what they should be and where passion for yourself lives in them.

Jobs are like having a genius. Creativity, passion, and a genius. What comes first? Did the creativity lay the egg of passion, by the genius that lived in your rib wall?

Maybe, just like how a genius is a guest that lives outside of you and can only visit you from time to time, maybe passion is like that too. We can’t be always creating..well, we can. I do it all of the time and it gets very exhausting and you start to not trust the world when you believe that your life is her eonly to create. And if life is not all about living in passion, what else is there? Is that what I’m living in right now? A world without passion is also considered “calmness”. And in all fairness, I feel like I push passion away nowadays. That the comfort of calmness is..well, it’s comfortable. Why can’t I be calm without comfort? Why can’t I marry my job that has calmness and passion?

Does passion stray away from me because I always destroy it? I destroy it and shew it away as if it’s pestering me. As if I told it that I am no longer alive and youthful to it and for it. That I no longer want to make love with a passionate genius. That in a sense I must have gathered up all the stick of shame and lit up fires of it to stay warm, calm and of course, comfortable.  Is this what we all do, once we have forbidden to be hurt by passion again?

I believe once we recognize something, and we put attention to it, that we have woken it up. We have the opportunity to keep it where it is for the rest of whatever we have left in this world, or we can do something about.

We can be that pitty homeless (homeless of self) person asking others for their spare change so you can be whole again, or we can stand up and try to love again. I’m not saying to get married to your job again, when you’re desperate and needy. Because you will then find a job that is desperate and needy too – just. like. you.

But to find the passion for a job again. For marrying your job again. And if they leave, they leave. Your passion does not have to leave with them.

They have no clue what to do with it anyway. I promise.

Go back to the place you left your passion behind, it’s still there waiting for you. Pick it up and find a way to store it within you. To show it that it can live within you, and does not have to be shared within a marriage where he other person does not want you for your passion. They want you to fulfill their needs of their passion. Please be aware that no one wants your passion. Stop treating your passion like a genius that travels through time and space. Stop sharing the part of you that no one wants to exist in, or be, other than you. Because passion is not transferable. No one knows what your passion does for you, they can not feel that. This is why we do what we do, and they do what they do.

No one share the same race of passion.