Cheeni Cheeni

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for taking us too seriously. You are right. I put a strong focus on us having stability. Too strong. I want you to just...understand a distinction, and I wanted you to understand this the whole time. I wasn't trying to put a focus on potential permanency between us. I just wanted us to be stable for the little while we were together. I wanted to say, "hey everyone, this is my girlfriend, isn't she beautiful?" in a closed room with just you and me. I thought you wanted the same.

You were my flower. I didn't expect you to last through the winter, as such. I just wanted to see you blossom and bloom and say, "hey everyone, this is my flower, isn't it beautiful?" in a closed room with just you and me. I wanted you to bloom for me. And when you did, I could say "This year was a good year for harvest" and then I could prepare for the winter; then I could face the winter because I could stay warm with the memories of you in the sunlight. And you were so close to full bloom - everyday you opened up a little bit more, and I wasn't going to stop tending to your soil until I knew you were ready to be potted. Then maybe I could give you away and remember that I helped grow the perfect flower, just once. But this wasn't your season, you didn't want to bloom for me. Sometimes the perfect blossom happens only once, and it's wrong to force it. So I'm sorry.

I can't stop crying because it feels like death to see you close up against me, especially so suddenly. That's why this hurts, that's it. It's just going to take some time to understand that you have to close up, because soon you will blossom for someone else, and that you are not my flower. That is my fault, not yours. Please just appreciate why I need this time to come to terms with that. You didn't make it easy, but I made it hard.

Love,
Jamil

On Work - October 2008

Sit still. Breathe. Don't move too much. Stay quiet mostly. Make space. Roll over. Take calls when you least want them...

So, in many ways work is paying me to sleep. I tried to do more, I did more, I'm still doing more, but now they're asking me to go back to sleep.

What if work paid me to dream? What if the share price was a reflection of the aggregate imagination of our department and the market's contributions to the sustainability of ideas? Yearly innovation quotas and dream-out metrics, compensation for those who unlock the mind, base pay for those who try. Vacations for top dreamers expensed by Vice President Freud. Weekly meetings with managers to discuss penetrating the territories of the mind. Monthly corrective action plans to prevent instances of nightmares. Forecasting possible dimensions of reasoning yet untouched and strategic implementations to charter these dimensions. All this for a dollar, and a world that dreams.

If they can pay me to sleep why won't they pay me to dream?