Room For Advancement

We binge. Left to our childish devices we binge on the empty calories of the deadliest of sins. We binge on complacency. On mediocrity. On misery. We take no pains to put together our meal. Our pantry is stocked. It’s always on sale, lining the shelves of every life experience we have ever partook in. It comes in a single-serving box.

Open memory side up.

Pour it into a day.

Add life.

We wake up, we throw up, it isn’t healthy. But we don’t care. The morning comes too early to prepare. Or it comes too late to forget. The meal will do. The pantry’s stocked, so we’ll never go hungry. We’ll always starve.


The following was found, posted on heart, in a dream, where written words are sounds and hidden meanings are feelings:


I’ve never placed an employment ad before; I never needed to. I always thought I was self-sustaining. I feared I wasn’t. So, I’m not sure if this is the right place for it, though I’m not sure any place is “right” for it. Forgive me my lack of certainty. It is not all I offer. Its presence is not at all what I require.

I need a partner. Someone to provide the checks and balances missing in a world full of food and empty of chefs. A single person dedicated to setting aside a large part of their life for the nutrition of another. An entity willing to provide slight slavery in exchange for overwhelming partnership.

It sounds like a lot, but really it isn’t. I don’t ask for the world. Just yours. Just mine. You see, I’m tired. I can’t do it on my own anymore. I’m not even sure if I ever knew how to do it. But something deep down tells me that with you – with a partner dedicated to the pursuit – I could do it.

The salary is simple, the recompense plain: reciprocation. Total and complete. I cook for the hand that feeds me, and I offer the ingredients that I request.

You needn’t have any experience. I think that knowledge of life will make you too old. Most people say that “you must be willing to learn” but not so for this position. You must be willing to let me teach you something. I must be able to show you something new.

Naïveté will also disqualify you. Every dancer must know the pain of real training and effort if they are to put on a professional show. If you are to dance with me around my relentless demons, you must know demons yourself. An artist is never innocent.

You don’t have to be a super-model. That, too, is certain failure. The eyes, the ears, the touch – the very heart – is discriminatory. I will never deny that. I am looking for perfection, but perfect partnership is not found in a concept of flawlessness. How could a painter paint with uniformity? Let us be colors – terrible, terrific colours. To mix, to mingle, and to find new shades in every blend. A painting should never be finished, and it should always be beautiful. Preference will be given to the laughably passionate.

You don’t need to be single, but let’s be clear: devotion is essential. Your relationships may not survive. They will be asked to take a back seat. Late nights, lost weeks, eternal memories. Whole halls enshrined. I’ll claim no responsibility, because I am giving you the advantage of transparency right at the start. This life can’t be microwaved. If it grows cold the meal is finished, and I’ve already wasted enough passion to feed a nation. I cannot bear to waste another drop. I will not let someone who uses a backburner into my kitchen.

Applicants will be discriminated against based on their histories, their passions, their moral choices, their circumstances, their company, their rationale, their interests, their eye contact, and their heart.

My world deserves nothing less.

Successful applicants will have the following: A helpful disposition. A natural sense of motivation and self-sacrifice. A ceaseless zeal for thinking big. And you must believe in me. You must be interested in every facet of me. You must love me.

Save me.