*This is me thinking at 8:54PM, 36 minutes before my shift starts.*

Whether a artist, a visionary, a dreamer or someone who just hates their job.

Are you happy.

40 hours. 40 hours. 40 hours.

How much are you loved.

How much are you appreciated.

How much that job show it appreciates you.

Explain what a job is in America.

Legal jail sentences you've been programmed to accept.

To live and enjoy that job, to enjoy how you make your living is now a hollywood story, just something you see in movies. it ain't real.

When are you gonna reclaim those 40 hours for yourself?
For thos dreams that keep you up at night.

It won't be easy in this society. But easy never was the path given to champions.

The ying and yang of life.

There has to be losers to be winners. Failure for every success. That's one way of thinking.

Enough food to feed the entire planet, but we all want big plates to eat off of. Too selfish to share, you end up hating your neighbors.

Find love, find life. Reclaim those 40 hours before you drown your sadness in 40 ounces.

*This is entry #21 of a self imposed challenge to post something everyday for 30 days straight. It's a short story. Leave some feedback and come back daily to see what he posts for his month long challenge*

I am not a typical poet/spoken word person. I write as it comes to me, I lack formation but chaos is order yet undeciphered.