Revolving Door

Do you ever feel like you’re trapped in a revolving door and you can’t get out? Every time the exit comes around someone gets in your way or you’re moving to quickly to get out?

That’s how I’ve been feeling ever since I got a fulltime job. Now don’t get me wrong, I know a fulltime job is great and just a regular thing in life and I like getting paid every week. So then why do I feel this way?

I thought when I started working I would feel less trapped because I would be out doing something everyday. I wouldn’t be stuck at home broke anymore. I thought getting a job would be the answer to all of my problems. Well, it answered my money problem, but honestly, I’ve never felt more trapped in my life.

The truth of the matter is that I don’t like going to work, who does, right? But it’s true. It’s like I’m getting out of one prison and going to another one for eight hours and then returning to the first one. Sure I’m getting out everyday, but I’m going somewhere I don’t want to go. That’s not freedom.

And after a long, hard week I can finally see my escape, my break from the continuous cycle. I see the exit from the revolving door and I leap for it with all my strength.

Finally I’m out, I’m free for a few precious days. I can relax and take some time to get in touch with the world. But as I begin taking in my surroundings my breathing quickens, my chest tightens and I realize I just jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire.

All around me the world is moving too fast. Crowds swarm past me on the sidewalk – a sea of people. Traffic, honking horns and beeping crosswalks drone on continuously, numbing my mind. All around me brick buildings tower far above my head, limiting the amount of sky I can see. How can I get in touch with the world if I’m stuck in this never-ending parade of noise and people?

It’s like I’m stuck in the internal workings of a clock, dogging gears and fighting to survive when all I desperately want is to see the face of the clock.

With all of this chaos I can’t relax, so I hide in my apartment on my days off.

I need wide open spaces. I want to walk down a road that only has one lane either way, no buses and hardly any traffic – a road that has more horses on it than cars. I want to see fields on either side, towering oak trees and forests of pine trees. As I walk along I can see horses on every other piece of property and cows on the ones in between, where border collies help with the herding and a tractor can be seen every five minutes. I want to see flocks of birds and hear them singing every minute of every day.

When I feel the wind on my face I don’t want the scent of exhaust or concrete or some woman’s rank perfume. I want to feel the freshness of the open air, breathe the natural scents that the wind blows in my face, tingling my senses. I want to smell the fresh pollen of the wildflowers, the country smell of hay, and the summery scent of grass.

And as I walk along this road I want the bottoms of my jeans to be covered in dirt and dust, a gift of nature from our beautiful world.

I am young. I have so many things that I want to do. I want to write my novel, read every book I can get my hands on while lying in a hammock. I want to travel, to see the world, I want to try something new everyday, visit my family and discover new places.

I guess my problem is that I have a free spirit and I feel as though the cookie-cutter life everyone lives and says is appropriate suffocates me. I need my freedom.

But how can I do that when I am stuck in a revolving door?


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