Skills

I suspect that the bit of my job that I’m supposed to be good at is actually the bit of the job I’m worst at. so where do my skills lay?
supposedly I was good at poetry. but reading back, 99% of what I wrote was dross. what about the comedy? too chicken do see that through. the marketing stuff I’m proud of: binned by housewife and businessman alike. sometimes I feel trapped. it’s as if reality is wrapped too tightly round me. where I want to be, the things I want to try: remote. they’re distant mountains I climb in my mind. I could do that I think but it’s only based on other people’s stories. it’s easy to climb a picture of everest. impossible to conquer the real thing if the closest you’re going to get to Kathmandu is as a pub quiz answer. what do I want? I want to work for a nice b to c company. somewhere that has a product that gives tangible results tugs real emotions. is that something I could do? I’m good at ideas. good at whimsy. good at talking. weaker on…well to be honest, probably the thing I cherish most: writing. and possibly persuading. sure there are things my mind will  baulk at. places my imagination won’t go. and that’s a problem. how can I sell a benefit of something I don’t believe in. is it that I’m impressed by gloss? the car doesn’t have to be fast as long as it’s shiny? so once you’re actually under the bonnet of the thing, and there’s no shine is that what makes it look naff? or am I only interested in the gloss: the sort of narcissist who doesn’t care to think about things too deeply? Satisfied with the easy answer and ince it’s been said there’s no need to say it again. by which I mean, Richard fenyman tells the story of the plating company: they gold plated everything even if the gold wouldn’t bond. I think that’s a confidence trick. a lie. so when I see the faults in the product, how the guy in despatch scratches his arse inside his pants before picking up the goods. when I learn about that bit that wobbles which everyone’s been getting round to fix do I get the feeling that actually what we’re trying to punt is a load of shit? are there any products or services out there that don’t have that wobble or the dirty hands over them at one point? no. probably not. so by that logic I’m never going to find the company that’s the perfect fit. if the glass is always half full, no matter how ornate the glass is, I’m never going to be satisfied with the measure of what I drink.
Hilariously for someone who works in publishing, I’m not a details man. Or that I mistake complexity and long-winded Ness for detail. Given the job of describing a tree I’d instead describe the woods. Easier to skim over details than have to wrack my brains for the perfect words to describe the lizard-skin bark, the waxy green leaves that shine like polish.  See the hectic thatch of a bird’s nest snuck into the crook of two branches. It creates a strange stirring of sexy, looking as it does like a public bush. And the way the branches split, each one a cleft. Trees make me think of sex!

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