[the office clock]

Jonathan stared with gloomy eyes at the office clock on his cubicle.

Tic Toc.

His life was indeed, enclosed, like a cubicle. And so was everyone else’s. To him, humanity was capable of just so much – and not more. Not because it wasn’t possible. Throughout his relatively short life, Jonathan had encountered hundreds, maybe thousands individuals with raw, polished potential… individuals that had auras of success and glory around them. But those auras did not reflect reality. They were just auras. And those individuals were just humans. Human beings – in a competitive struggle to succeed and life happy – enclose themselves against each other. Pushing to achieve the “edge”. Following a massive domino logic, this results in equally massive creation of limits and boundaries; a infrastructure of barriers that hold down progress to the passing of decades, so that people have more time to compete against themselves. More time to rush ahead, in an attempt to reach glory. More time to give more time for those who follow. Yet the time lived, is no more than time spent.

Tic Toc.

Jonathan worked at an office building, one of those, which are extremely close to other types of office buildings. Backbones of steel and skins of concrete, these relentless structures stand surrounded by land of black asphalt. One or two trees also stand, yet with the sole purpose of masquerading a vile concept of seclusion.  The excruciating heat outside did not bother those residing within the office building. Pampered with what the board considered amenities, workers like Jonathan concluded that the situation wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Their bodies were enslaved to the structure, to the cubicle, to the enclosure. And they were rewarded with just enough to keep coming back, year after year. Workers like Jonathan were served false hope every morning, every payday, just enough to keep heads raised and spirits mellow. A sea of small stations forced into an even smaller space. A sea with no shores, with no life within… just the methodical beating of the waves.

Jonathan took one last gaze at the clock before getting back to the stacks of paperwork.

Tic Toc.