{Explode the Moment} Quit it.

Standing at the door in a messy office with an extra thump in my chest this morning. The picture of the man who sits in front of me is right above mine on the company org-chart. I am willingly a part of this empty organizational hierarchy under the pretense that the same organization will reciprocate my obedience and subjugation with an agreed upon weekly allowance. Given a finite and uncertain amount of time on this planet, I’ve decided to sell some of it to another person who seemingly wasn’t as afraid as I am to start doing something on my own. It’s peculiar, though, that with two simple words I will release myself from this hierarchy. This hierarchy only exists because I’ve agreed that it does. The same two words will immediately turn the man that was my boss into just another douchebag, whom I can call a douchebag without the threat of being fired.

Respect that was bought, disintegrated.

“I quit.”