It has been nearly eight months since I left my last job. A move that was necessary for me to take some time off. To search for some understanding of what everything in life meant to me. In reality, I left because I could not longer cope with the reality of a demanding job that offered no support, only fruitless battles against culture and bureaucracy that were both designed to impede rather than to offer opportunities of change.
And in this year of time away from work, it has been cathartic, lonely, sad, euphoric, frustrating and peaceful. And as much as I would like to say I am back to my old self, I don't think I really am. I have yet to find the love in my poetry or guitar, which both once were solid definitions of my soul.
