Spectators are made believe that Superman is real. Hero does exists, name it : James Bond, Indiana Jones, Xena, Kung Fu Panda. A Superwoman will fight against the evils and somehow truth prevails.
Down the street, though they never said, some bosses dream of having miracoulus superemployees. Like in my small world, they have been carried away in their fantasy of me doing all the impossible and just like a harmster running around in an endless wheel thinking that the faster I run, the closer I get.
I start to get office sick, cubicle sick. When I have the mounted paperwork, long list of people to contact, confirm, persuade, this creature seems to fail to connect to the madness of monday. Worklplace is no longer an oase for me, unfortunately. As the sand dunes are getting higher, the heat has aspired my motivation.
When a day like today somebody say , " We can't do it". Then, I just have to give my self up, which used to be something I could never forgive myself. No matter what. I swore I did not want to end up like them: vegetables who just breath but do not move things.
Then I tell my self later this day, even God forgives his creatures and his creation has to come to an end. Then I have to learn to see that I am not real, I kill my imagination that I (wish) ..I could be at my best. I excell. I perform to the test of time. The more I think about becoming one, the more fragile I have become.
But hey, it' all right to make mistakes. It is okay to be dissappointed. It is O-K-A-Y to fail. How do I spell failure ??? L-E-T-T-I-N-G G-O. then now, it's time for me to learn how to spell success: S-A-L -V-A-T-I-O-N.
Then , I just have to put off my superhero costume, lay down my superhero flag, and try to forgive myself for giving up the battle. I am no longer a superhero.
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