Those that I envy the most are not the rich or the great or even the famous, the young or the beautiful but the souls who live spontaneously in non-metronomic rhythm; in step with the drum that calls a man to life and to live. I, on the other hand, feel mostly, girdled, girded round, encircled, a bone-dry mummy entombed in a crypt and sentenced to a display cage in a museum. What hell to be constrained within the prison cells of pragmatism and convention! It is as if the souls of the bodies that I see outside of me are actually inside of me; maggots wending a slimy pathway through my thoughts, giving the thumbs up to ideas that meet not the dictionary’s definition of common sense but the public interpretation of it and then shooting down all my attempts to escape and float upwards on the lofty air of rhapsodic discovery. Those souls out there, outside of my imagined reality, living erringly or truthfully but always spontaneously: surely they are my true brothers and sisters; my long lost aunts anxious to send me on my merry way laden with provisions of honey and ambrosia. My magic carpet is ready to fly.
I’m sitting, this night, to all intents relaxed except I am anything but. For I am possibly about to embark on the most exhilarating journey in my otherwise non-eventful life. Tomorrow I expect to be fired, a first. My life as corporate financial analyst is to be crossed out not, afterall, with a 25-year-service golden pen but with a giant eraser.
I was sat, this morning, across a table from my boss soaking in sounds that came through the ether between us: “This is not working. You may have the technical chops but you don’t have the intuition and that can’t be taught”. Case shut. The next sound I heard were not fireworks but a colossal thud. I was the dumped spouse: abandoned, bereft and in shock. After years of working my precious butt, sometimes to almost midnight, this is how it ends. The door is surely now about to close and, though I don’t believe in fate, destiny or God but, it looks like Alexander Graham Bell was right and another door, a better door, is silently opening. The spark of an idea.
It came to me while sitting (I sit a lot) in a cafe at the weekend; in fact only yesterday. The prospect of reaching middle-age and being let go into a world that doesn’t want old fuddy-duddies had exercised my mind for a mighty long aeon. Still, I couldn’t figure what I could realistically do, entrepreneurially, that hadn’t been done. The one thing I knew was that when I walked the streets of London and observed independent businesses being run and managed by people with dreams, ambition and courage my heart would leap.
This is what I want to do: work for myself doing something that I love and excelling at it. This is how I feel walking into the Apple Store on Regents Street and knowing that “Someone built this and what a beauty it is”. Hate or loathe Apple but those guys raised the bar for computer software, build, design, functionality and service. I want to do something similarly amazing (perhaps, more). It will come at a premium (of course we all want to be paid and paid well) but it will be amazing. I once told a prospective boss who was about to hire me that “I want to change the world”. He laughed and there were times I would think back to then when I was younger and think “How naive”. It looks like life is offering me a chance.
So when my idea came I was awed and my heart leapt. After two hours of excitement the practical diffculties started to hit me: funding? technology? competition? managerial ability? Do all of the people who start a business have all these skills? No, they learnt on the job. Which is why I feel that my upcoming adventure will be less a child Alice through the looking glass and more an adult Jason setting off after the golden fleece. Tonight then as I sit on my sofa life is all surreal; my world is light, atemporal and indistinct; a living impressionist painting. I might fail but at least I’d have tried and what I learn will be invaluable. I don’t want to return to earth and ashes wishing “If only”.
But if it works out …
If you’re a Dream I am a dreamer
You’re magic and I the Magician
Romeo had Juliet I have Violet
Eyes that blush in Shadowland
Bittersweet, Vulcan’s beating
Lust forged in Mar’s blistering heat
In/Out pressure, the Sound of pleasure
If you’re a dream I am a Dreamer
fortunately you’ve got someone who relies on you
we started out as friends
but the thought of you just caves me in
the symptoms are so deep
it is much too late to turn away
we started out as friends
“he wants to sleep with me! eek!”
sign your name across my heart
i want you to be my baby
sign your name across my heart
“but can’t you see, I feel like you’re my best friend”
i want you to be my lady
time I’m sure will bring
disappointments in so many things
“I never wanted to be a heartbreaker but if needs must…”
it seems to be the way
when your gambling cards on love you play
I’d rather be in hell with you baby
than in cool heaven, it seems to be the way
“what a fool believes”
birds never look into the sun
before the day is gone
“he’s cute though, the way his smile glints”
but oh the light shines brighter on a peaceful day
leave us alone, we don’t want to deal with you
“turn out the lights”
we’ll shed our stains showering
in the room that makes the rain
all alone with you, makes the butterflies in me arise
“eh baby, oh baby, do i do that to you?”
slowly we make love,and the earth rotates on our dictates
“slowly we make love…., slowly we come, ahh”
(Lyrics by Terence Trent D’Arby, thoughts in ellipsis by me)