Jailbreak Epilogue: There are times when you just plain ol’ run out of yourself…, an epic in 5-parts
Pt.I Avernus
The trip to I**** started out with me, as usual, struggling for control and having a rather difficult time accepting P**** as someone whose range is longer and knows a heckuva lot more than I do in our work. I think I’m the worst pupil that’s ever lived because I’m attempting to surpass my teachers even before the lesson starts. Sometimes, though, you gotta give in to sheer logic and make the most of it; so once I got the teamwork thing going we basically flew.
Week one was the local Front Office agency, namely post-sales, Customer Service- been there, done that. Then we rented a car (I drove) and did our S**** F**** do S**** port agency as well, on the next Monday and Tuesday, and since we had the car to ourselves during the weekend we basically let it rip; we went to B**** d**** C**** (thrice, I think, great bars!), and to J**** even though everybody said we should’ve chosen F**** instead. And it was raining. We went to see the new Adam Sandler movie and I thought of you because of that little romantic bit with the written notes in it.
What do you know.
When we got back to do the rest of our I**** agency, the back-office on Wednesday and Friday, we noticed we were basically teaching the cannon fodder and started wondering where all the bigwigs were; on Friday in came the last group and they’d saved the best for last: Lined up in the roll call were the four agency coordinators, the Regional Manager and the National Director himself. Order of the day was to scrutinize us under a microscope and give us hell with all those questions.
It made me smile; they honestly thought they had a chance against me and P****.
Cry “arclight” buddy, because we cut through their ranks like a B-52 on methadone and dropped all our payload straight into the heart of enemy territory. It ended with them buying into the idea and everyone was shaking hands and smiling afterwards. The National Director himself told us he was very impressed with how much we knew, that we managed to answer each and every one of their questions, and that it’d been the best presentation he’d attended in a long time.
I’m thinking I’m getting very good at speaking in public: Once eye contact with the audience is made and rapport is established it’s pretty much a question of reading their minds…
Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Of course that’s not all because on the eve of the day before we left for good we were returning to the hotel and we met this friend of P****, purely by chance, and he’s this insanely huge bigshot from headquarters back in S**** and he said they were having a very fancy party at this very fancy seaside place for their very fancy VIP accounts and invited us. He told his people to give us VIP treatment too and so they did. All of a sudden I’d gatecrashed Mount Olympus and I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with giants.
I think I could get used to this life so… hey, trust me on this one, I will.
2007, after all, does beckon ahead.
Pt.II Perspective
I’m standing alone over this wooden pier by the river watching small fishing boats bob up and down around me. The evening air is cool and the faint glow from a distant lighthouse shines through the bay in the distance. P**** is still jogging around somewhere but I’ve just gotten the cramps on both my legs. I’m so out of shape.
And it gets me thinking, you know?
I’m thinking of how inadequate I have been feeling for the last three or four years, starting with the night F**** left for good (a few months before I graduated).
I’m wondering about my self-confidence and why the hell it’s been bobbing up and down for years, like these boats, and why the hell I can’t really relate to most people, girls especially.
Once I got my act together, was it 2003 or what?, it should have been a simple point of walking the walk and never looking back but now it seems I’ve been second-guessing every move I make, and I automatically presume people to be either complete idiots or better than me.
Different than whatever it is that I think I am.
What am I?
Sometimes you walk a thousand miles in any given direction.
Pt.III Oneiric
I had the weirdest dream:
I was back in my hometown and you were there with me; I couldn’t really take a good look at the people around us because they kept changing from old friends from High School, to people from College, then from the office, and so on.
It was a sunny Saturday morning and you were wearing a yellow-ish, auburn-ish, orange-ish t-shirt, pretty much the same color of your hair the last time we saw each other and one of those friends asked me if I could still remember my enrollment number from back in College, and I said I couldn’t.
You took my hand, smiled, and said those very eight digits yourself. You said it was something you could never forget.
I took you in my arms and gave you a long, long kiss, kind of like in the movies and told you I was so glad we were finally able to do this out in the open, for real, to be together at last, regardless of the outcome and regardless of life itself…
I woke up as the alarm went off and took a steaming shower before getting dressed for work.
I could no longer recall the numbers for the life of me- I rested my head back against the tiles under the hot water- and smiled anyway.
Pt.IV Touchdown
The plane touched down on the tarmac back home on a Friday night, it was pretty late and I hadn’t slept at all the previous night because of the fancy company party, which led to my forgetting aboard some handmade cookies I’d bought for my grandma… something I only realized the next morning when
I
woke
up
somewhere
else
entirely
because I’d moved in two weeks before I actually moved in, as odd as it sounds, for I was away and I’d never seen the new place after I got the keys so it was basically, Whoa.
I felt totally lost for the rest of the weekend, way out of place, uprooted and swamped at the same time.
Pt.V Burma Shave mathematics
I’ve been stuck with the oddest sensation for a couple of months; it seems like every time I get a train of thought going inside my head it ends up in, Burma Shave.
You know? Like those old roadside billboards from the 1950s?
Either I’m coming down with some post-20th century Yuppie affectation or it’s really the time to bring my life-long, world-saving plan up-to-date.
I think it was Gandhi that once said, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world”.
Add that to the (crazy) Morphogenetic Field Theory and you have: one hundred apes, thirty-six Tzaddikim and one Superman who’s eternally twenty-nine; inspiration-wise the land is barren and filled with feet of clay. There’s gotta be somebody left to save the world- there’s gotta be somebody left to step up to the challenge and prove to people that whatever it is, it can be done.
It’s time to cut loose and dent the memetics of the mundane, get it?
Believe and you will be saved, buddy.
Words to live by.
…Burma Shave.
The trip to I**** started out with me, as usual, struggling for control and having a rather difficult time accepting P**** as someone whose range is longer and knows a heckuva lot more than I do in our work. I think I’m the worst pupil that’s ever lived because I’m attempting to surpass my teachers even before the lesson starts. Sometimes, though, you gotta give in to sheer logic and make the most of it; so once I got the teamwork thing going we basically flew.
Week one was the local Front Office agency, namely post-sales, Customer Service- been there, done that. Then we rented a car (I drove) and did our S**** F**** do S**** port agency as well, on the next Monday and Tuesday, and since we had the car to ourselves during the weekend we basically let it rip; we went to B**** d**** C**** (thrice, I think, great bars!), and to J**** even though everybody said we should’ve chosen F**** instead. And it was raining. We went to see the new Adam Sandler movie and I thought of you because of that little romantic bit with the written notes in it.
What do you know.
When we got back to do the rest of our I**** agency, the back-office on Wednesday and Friday, we noticed we were basically teaching the cannon fodder and started wondering where all the bigwigs were; on Friday in came the last group and they’d saved the best for last: Lined up in the roll call were the four agency coordinators, the Regional Manager and the National Director himself. Order of the day was to scrutinize us under a microscope and give us hell with all those questions.
It made me smile; they honestly thought they had a chance against me and P****.
Cry “arclight” buddy, because we cut through their ranks like a B-52 on methadone and dropped all our payload straight into the heart of enemy territory. It ended with them buying into the idea and everyone was shaking hands and smiling afterwards. The National Director himself told us he was very impressed with how much we knew, that we managed to answer each and every one of their questions, and that it’d been the best presentation he’d attended in a long time.
I’m thinking I’m getting very good at speaking in public: Once eye contact with the audience is made and rapport is established it’s pretty much a question of reading their minds…
Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Of course that’s not all because on the eve of the day before we left for good we were returning to the hotel and we met this friend of P****, purely by chance, and he’s this insanely huge bigshot from headquarters back in S**** and he said they were having a very fancy party at this very fancy seaside place for their very fancy VIP accounts and invited us. He told his people to give us VIP treatment too and so they did. All of a sudden I’d gatecrashed Mount Olympus and I was standing shoulder-to-shoulder with giants.
I think I could get used to this life so… hey, trust me on this one, I will.
2007, after all, does beckon ahead.
Pt.II Perspective
I’m standing alone over this wooden pier by the river watching small fishing boats bob up and down around me. The evening air is cool and the faint glow from a distant lighthouse shines through the bay in the distance. P**** is still jogging around somewhere but I’ve just gotten the cramps on both my legs. I’m so out of shape.
And it gets me thinking, you know?
I’m thinking of how inadequate I have been feeling for the last three or four years, starting with the night F**** left for good (a few months before I graduated).
I’m wondering about my self-confidence and why the hell it’s been bobbing up and down for years, like these boats, and why the hell I can’t really relate to most people, girls especially.
Once I got my act together, was it 2003 or what?, it should have been a simple point of walking the walk and never looking back but now it seems I’ve been second-guessing every move I make, and I automatically presume people to be either complete idiots or better than me.
Different than whatever it is that I think I am.
What am I?
Sometimes you walk a thousand miles in any given direction.
Pt.III Oneiric
I had the weirdest dream:
I was back in my hometown and you were there with me; I couldn’t really take a good look at the people around us because they kept changing from old friends from High School, to people from College, then from the office, and so on.
It was a sunny Saturday morning and you were wearing a yellow-ish, auburn-ish, orange-ish t-shirt, pretty much the same color of your hair the last time we saw each other and one of those friends asked me if I could still remember my enrollment number from back in College, and I said I couldn’t.
You took my hand, smiled, and said those very eight digits yourself. You said it was something you could never forget.
I took you in my arms and gave you a long, long kiss, kind of like in the movies and told you I was so glad we were finally able to do this out in the open, for real, to be together at last, regardless of the outcome and regardless of life itself…
I woke up as the alarm went off and took a steaming shower before getting dressed for work.
I could no longer recall the numbers for the life of me- I rested my head back against the tiles under the hot water- and smiled anyway.
Pt.IV Touchdown
The plane touched down on the tarmac back home on a Friday night, it was pretty late and I hadn’t slept at all the previous night because of the fancy company party, which led to my forgetting aboard some handmade cookies I’d bought for my grandma… something I only realized the next morning when
I
woke
up
somewhere
else
entirely
because I’d moved in two weeks before I actually moved in, as odd as it sounds, for I was away and I’d never seen the new place after I got the keys so it was basically, Whoa.
I felt totally lost for the rest of the weekend, way out of place, uprooted and swamped at the same time.
Pt.V Burma Shave mathematics
I’ve been stuck with the oddest sensation for a couple of months; it seems like every time I get a train of thought going inside my head it ends up in, Burma Shave.
You know? Like those old roadside billboards from the 1950s?
Either I’m coming down with some post-20th century Yuppie affectation or it’s really the time to bring my life-long, world-saving plan up-to-date.
I think it was Gandhi that once said, “You must be the change you wish to see in the world”.
Add that to the (crazy) Morphogenetic Field Theory and you have: one hundred apes, thirty-six Tzaddikim and one Superman who’s eternally twenty-nine; inspiration-wise the land is barren and filled with feet of clay. There’s gotta be somebody left to save the world- there’s gotta be somebody left to step up to the challenge and prove to people that whatever it is, it can be done.
It’s time to cut loose and dent the memetics of the mundane, get it?
Believe and you will be saved, buddy.
Words to live by.
…Burma Shave.
posted by 186282mps at 7:26 AM
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