My work

If I just keep prying things, this whole thing might fall apart. Or else nothing will happen, again. No one saw me prying. I was hiding because I knew other people who really know the hows and whys of prying would just laugh at me and my last of strategy for bringing the whole thing down. So while I am prying, I am covering up my work with my forearm, ever so subtly, just in case an expert comes by and shows me a better way. That would be the worst. Because then they would save me from all this prying, which was supposed to take all my energy for the next long while, which is so much better than finishing this prying, bringing the whole thing down, and being left with nothing to do, and a false sense of accomplishment. I want to feel the process of discovery within the bringing of this shit to its knees, but the truth is that I know that other people are already working on it and doing a great job. And they really enjoy the work. They’ve invited all their friends to help them, and they are drinking coronas while they chip away—they are celebrating because they have almost finished. I hope they don’t see me, because my progress is so slow, and I would be so embarrassed that I thought I would do all this work myself. I just got here with this screwdriver and I started wedging it into shit, and I assumed that I would finish, somehow, though I hadn’t visualized the way that that would happen. Maybe I don’t know what it is to finish prying things off, but it’s probably not going to make that big of a difference either way. I just wanted something to keep myself busy with, with a sense of progress and great benefits until I am done working.