You must have thought many times, while reading this blog, and especially lately, "what the fuck does this guy complains about? He is always complaining, about his power, about his technique, about his job, about not having a job (did I really? Don't think so). What the hell does he want?"
I have to admit that all those are legitimate questions.
So now I will give you the answer to what I want.
I want the best.
I want the best for me, for my life, and nothing less and nothing else.
The other day I drove home from work thinking that I wanted that day back, because it had been a bad day, in which I hadn't done anything that really made me happy except eating an enormous sandwich with Parma ham.
But I will never ever get that day back. Never, fucking never. I don't want this to ever happen again.
I can solve my problems with power (can I really?) and with technique (just get more power and it's sorted).
I only have problems with work. I may sound trivial or naive, but I simply don't like to work, and I try do do it as little as I can. Now this thing is affecting both the two only important things in my life: my climbing and my relationship. I get home and am destroyed, can't train or climb how I'd like and can't love my girlfriend how I'd like and how she deserves. I can't give her all the time she needs from me, and I can't have hers, because I'm always tired and depressed.
I have a limited number of days to live. I cannot lose days anymore.
I know, I sound stupid, pathetic: but I would like to take you all here, to witness the foolish rat race that takes place every day. The winner is the one who runs the most, who does the most, who sacrifices his person and life the most, just for a glance of appreciation from the Boss. I hate them. I hate them. I hate them.
One last thing.
You may start rubbing your hands in anticipation, eagerly waiting for the moment I'll quit this nightmare, and for the raging words that will come from my mouth while getting away from hell.
Don't wait for those words. I will not say the truth. I will not tell them why I quit the job. I will not open their eyes. I will let them all spoil their lives. I want them all to be wanting their lives back.
Because I hate them.