Self Progression.

Discarding the noise and Evolving with the music.

It’s dismissive to say the least to be unable to acknowledge the opportunities modern technology has allowed us young folks to build careers we wouldn’t have imagined could exist Ten Years ago.

It’s been a while since I’ve held a ‘real’ job, in the beliefs of my elderly relatives. I understand where they’re coming from, because of-course sitting in front of a computer screen is hardly considered ‘hard-work’.

Why would anybody consider there can be ‘real work-stress’ associated with sitting in-front a computer screen for 15 hours as I juggle Three different ‘paying’ jobs when I don’t even have an office.

My schedule is a sham, according to most, it’s pretty easy really — quite comfortable. As I shuffle thought Analysing Data for my Investment firm, To Researching Academic Papers, To drafting Lectures for students, To my passion for Writing and making sure I publish at least Three article per-day.

None of those count as ‘real’ jobs because I hardly ever leave my house, and waking up at “2 A.M pretending to working till 5 P.M”, doesn’t really account for much if I never leave the house. How can there be any work-stress from that? How could anybody take me seriously when I say I get blackouts because of my hectic work schedule and working in three different time-zones, whilst most of my Surgeon friends laugh their asses off at my “Pussy attitude” to how lucky I am to never do any ‘Actual’ work.

I’ve recently been criticised for not being social enough and not devoting enough time to my friends and family because I’m not outgoing enough; even though I never actually do any ‘real’ work. Understandably so, maybe they fail to understand that by the time others around me are getting ready for a Social Life, I’m thinking about how lucky it would be to get at-least 4 Hours of decent sleep.

I understand when people call me out on being ‘a jerk’ or having ‘a serious attitude problem’ when I can’t keep up with them in small-talk because my brain feels like it’s being hammered with nails by the time I finish my ‘fake jobs’.

I guess, income doesn’t account for much either because getting ‘paid’ for working behind a computer screen at home is hardly a job worth considered of any value.

I don’t blame people for failing to understand that the problem lies in their attitude towards me not wanting to adjust to their ideology of ‘work-ethic’, I guess I just don’t fit the bill.

I think to myself, if somebody was able to understand how we all deal with work stress differently and that maybe just maybe my ‘fake jobs’ are actually pretty important to me.

If they had another Brain-cell, It’d be lonely.

Being withdrawn from society is hardly an excuse for not wanting to socialise, but maybe I get no pleasure from small-talk or faking a smile or posing for a photograph or rubbing shoulders with socialites. It’s just not on my radar of relevance.

I find it easier as I compel myself to keep-working and being able to extract the music from the noise — I find comfort in solitude and my independence of being able to mould multiple careers that I find true happiness in.

I don’t mind my schedule, I mind the attitude people have towards it. It’s dismissive and relentlessly irrelevant to what is has anything to do with their insecurity towards me being a ‘loner’.

I wish that some times I could just say-it-out loud and yell, “My Introverted Life is a Decision I’m Proud of. I get no pleasure in engaging in conversation with other people who add nothing of value to me. I have no interest in other people’s lives…and really kinda just leave me the fuck alone, because I’m Busy and just because I work from home doesn’t mean I’m unemployed”.

But then that would require too much effort on my part to explain something people probably won’t understand and are largely people of insignificance to me.

When truly I believe people that critique my ‘fake jobs’ are just examples of “Thou doth protest too much”.

For the bottom of my hearts, “Go fuck yourself — with your shinny office dildo”.

I failed to learn the piano, so I decided I’d play the keyboard instead. //All aboard the Crazytrain.

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