Why Living In Jail Seems Ideal

Why Living In Jail Seems Ideal

Ever since I became a teenager, I have been horrified by a single question, “how are we going to live?”
More specifically, bills need to be paid and I need to find a way of paying it; find a Job!
This notion of working and finding a job has always deluded me. The media and the folks around make it seem ideal and pleasant, and only form of negative we hear about for the workers is usually to do with the past or some third world country, or China. Though for me, I felt, work has always been unfair. From being made to work like a dog for a mere twonie, to working in unsafe conditions, to working with managers that would look upon me as disposable human capital, to working with female mangers that use their authority to act on their sneering. Overall, work has not been as described as a list of predetermined duties to perform but more of how to subjugate my mind. This notion of subjugation, has always been a problem for me, more specifically because of how I think, topped off with a little bit of negative that exist on the employer side.

My problem with subjugation is that work environment is conceived in two ways. One, their is a boss and then subordinates, and a subordinate has to bow down to the boss. This is how I have seen the work environment to be. The other conception is, that everyone has a role, and each acts according to it. Their isn’t any hierarchy but rather a flat line of roles specified to different duties. This is the view that I perceived as the ideal work environment and so far I have only seen it in my imagination, never in real life. Now the problem of subjugation is that I am perceived as a proud man, though in my defense, I see myself as principled, and I stand firm by it unless shown otherwise. That firmness of standing by is looked upon as pride, and I claim that if shown otherwise against my principles than by God I will stand down, hence it is not pride. Any who, the problem with subjugation is, I cant give authority to anyone, and if I fake it, it becomes blatantly obvious that I am faking it. More so my faking is depended on the polarity of my mind, and to control that lever of polarity is a life long process that I have been traversing and, with age, succeeding on.
So the first problem is that I don’t keep my head down or keep myself from protesting when being wronged, and this is a major no-no when working for a different ethnicity, specifically in cross cultural work environment. Some difference by the mere presence of being their seem to make a negative impression.
The second problem is, and a major problem, that wherever their is room for initiative, specifically an initiative that would personally benefit me, I tend to take it. Now these initiative are very self beneficial, meaning it doesn’t really help the employer unless an argument is made that benefiting the employee is eventually benefiting the employer by granting the employer with a happier employee. Aside from that, these initiatives made my work environment more luxurious and it did also help productivity, ofcourse. The problem though is that, by taking these initiatives I had cut through more red-tape than can be found in a dollar store.

Most recent example is my last work place, a mobile retail store. I cleaned up the back room and turned it into a staff lounge. Brought in second monitors for the store to have more desktop space. Brought in high chairs to match the high counter. I mean, for a person who was an associate manager, I was running the place as an owner. Now I did it, because room to take the initiative was there, the problem became when other workers in different stores found out about it, and they wanted to transfer to my store.

Aside from this, their has been other problems. Management falling short on their promise. They promised a managerial position, and I showed the initiative but wasn’t given the role. Granted I have trouble bossing people around, and when it comes to deciding between two females, by God the crucifix seems like a better place to be.

Other problem with initiatives is that in sales, retail, their is always a conflict between the corporate side and the management side. Corporate says no to certain procedures of making new sales but then management would insist on those specific procedures. So the obvious conflict is always hard to resolve. You have to listen to management cause they have the first hand at riding your arse, but then the guilt of going against corporate tends to conflict. Now in these situations, I have usually always tended to find loop holes, where I manage to satisfy both sides, by conceiving a different method of gaining sales, although if those method brought in the light of day, they would not be approved, but as long remain hidden, it is not illegal either. Hence, a loop hole. In my last role, it worked wonders, except my manager thought she was the reason behind it, so when I backed off to show the sales would slump, and they did, that didn’t sit well. I was eventually pushed out. Since the store I was working in became a better working environment; two screens, back lounge, etc., second the obvious conflict with management.

In the end, the store went back to its low level, and I went back to my no-level (jobless)
Anyhow, the point is, in terms of being a worker, though my life has been made hell, to a point of being a life long patient of psoriasis induced from the stress of “how are we going to (bloody) live?” has failed to mold me as a subjugated worker. I even voluntarily went homeless to find some sort of recourse, that period of being a true orphan which would make me more “humble”. The only thing it did was to mold myself to start lying, although I still find it necessary to be honest about lying #irony.

Now I answer the question of “how are we going to live?” With the question itself “HOW are, we going to live?” and training my mind to focus on the delight of the day than to pay heed to the whispers of the satan “poverty is your lot, ruin is coming”

So for that reason, I find jail to be ideal, where the question of “how are we going to live” simply keeps itself from resonating. In a jail, like the homeless shelter that I “vacationed” in for two weeks, doesn’t ask the question of what to eat or where to sleep, it simply says wake up in the morning, have breakfast, come for lunch and dinner and be back by night or stay out the whole night, and the environment is worst than a pig-stein . In a jail, I perceive is similar, though the whole day is locked from being inside a smaller cage to a bigger cage. You could ask, ‘do you really find normal life to be equal to a jail life or better?’ Well at the moment, my hearts aches for being at unrest, although being in a cage would take away a lot of liberties and luxuries, it should give me that peace of mind. That peace one can conceptualize in death, where one can nor go forward or move back, where the deception of choice no longer exist, where how the day shall unfold is foretold, though itinerary is filled with boredom and incarceration. Nevertheless, the notion of the unseen misery that may lay tomorrow is known and accepted without being asked again and again, “what are you going to do about it”

Overall, jail guarantees me the basic foundation of daily living, although it also inhibits any choice of progression or any processions (Kinda like a socialist environment). Then of course their is that notion of living among “animals”, the danger being raped or becoming someones bitch and so on. Well a man who seeks knowledge would gladly walk in the path of darkness, of course as long as God is my Might. As for dangers, they are like those tough university courses, even with a border line passing mark, you end up learning enough to add to your own foundation. Overall, I perceive Jail as better because than I won’t be asked the question “how are we going to live?”, since the answer is predetermined and assured. Although, as I recall, my time at the shelter, I felt their is still a chance, and I should work hard, and I remember a day labour I went to, boy did they break my back, physically and emotionally. I know from experience, that being put in a shitier place in life makes your appreciate the lesser shitier place you were in, and if anything, being in Jail should phantom as the shittier place. to this less shitier life I am living.

 

Indeed the ability to write is a blessing, though comes at a price of boredom and loneliness

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