My life and career, all photoshopped. Smile, fake. Resume and lists of achievements, worthless. Jobless. Can't muster the network, the out reach, the benefits of what I can do any more. Damaged from the small minds in the small town where I exist but do not belong. I need to restart in a new market, so "they" say but I'm tired of restarting. I just want a fucking job but I am hireless and the market is jobless so I continue to feel hopeless and helpless.
I feel like Alice in so-called Wonderland, too small to reach the key on the table. Too large to fit through the door. Then too small, too big, repeat.
Rubber tire that hangs over my waistline is distracting me, speaking of too big, too small...
Lonely. Confused. Turning 40 this year and I want a sports car.
After I hit the publish button, I will put my mask back on and keep trying to fake it until I make it. Or fake it until I accept failure, I hope that comes soon because I'm tired.