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"Useful Idiot - A story"

I can feel it coming again. Approaching like a storm.
Dark clouds gathering, signalling impending danger yet nobody seems to realise.
I know what will happen though, should I surrender myself to the imploring emotions and give in to the joy of violent movement then I’d be the bad man.
Go figure.
I’m not the one that sits in his cubicle day after day, filling my time with pointless emails about what I said at the weekend and who I did in some sordid little venue.
A brief encounter with another soul-less passenger in this life, a momentary respite from the crushing self-awareness that somewhere, somehow I blew my life.
I know they think I’m strange, I know they whisper about me when I’m not there. I see it in their glances as I walk past and I hear it in their strained voices when they try to include me in some pointless banter about a soap opera.
That’s why I had to do what I did.
They’ll tell you it was heavy metal or horror movies or some such “influence” but that’s not true. I don’t want my actions belittled by trying to apportion blame on such mundane outside circumstances.
No, the reason I did what I did was because of you.
Every person that thought it was clever to bully the quiet kid, every boss that thought it was a good idea to keep harassing me.
Every person that has ever foisted their opinions on others without asking first if that person minded.
…but I’m getting ahead of myself here, let me take you back.

I remember being told as a child that I was “a loner” by a teacher, and I remember her trying to make me feel bad because I didn’t join in with football and rugby. I could have, I just didn’t see the point. But they say wanting to spend time reading and writing is a bad thing for a child, you must be a “part of the crowd”.
I don’t want that, never had. As soon as you become part of the crowd, you lose your face. I didn’t want to lose my face amongst a sea of others.
I worked too hard at being me for that.
I always had this vague, unformed notion that I was different. I watched them play kiss-chase and tag and I never understood the need for interaction like that.
I remember the new kid, he kept wanting to be “my friend”. I tried to tell him I wasn’t interested but he didn’t get it.
So one day me and my new friend went playing by the river. He was noisy and thought it was the height of comedy to “save me” when I was in no danger of falling in.
They never did find him.

It was the same at college, I was there to learn stuff and get by but they insisted on trying to pull me along with them on trips to the pub and gigs. I went of course, I learned from an early age that resisting only makes you a target.
I tried to join in with the laughter and joking, but I had no heart for it. The words sounded odd and conversation ground to a halt, punctuated with uncomfortable silences and glances at the floor.
I never felt uncomfortable, it suited me just fine to see them realise just how mundane their lives were if this was the pinnacle of their entertainment.
There was one guy that thought I was “cool” and wanted to hang out with me.
I thought maybe he would understand how I saw the world and, after time, took him into my confidence.
But I was wrong – he didn’t understand and threatened to tell “authorities” about me. I explained how I was above that sort of thing, but he tried to get away and tell more lies about me.
They did find this one, but it had been too long for them to link him to me.
Not that I’m worried about that you understand, it’s just that I need more time before I announce my intentions to the world. It’s so much better to work in secret I’ve found. Revealing your plans too early only complicates matters.

After college I got a job. Some faceless office job in a global mega-corp. somewhere grey and noisy. I kept a low profile, did what was expected and never wasted time with chatter about how much I hated my partner or how badly behaved my kids were.
I came in, did my assigned tasks and went home to continue my research.
I didn’t trouble anyone.
Except the boss, some pseudo-yuppie wannabe in a power tie and matching braces wanted to climb higher up that job-pole and thought that by using me for a step, he might get there quicker.
Didn’t quite work out like that though.
He went missing one evening, he was seen getting his bus but after that nobody saw him until the neighbours complained about the smell.
Which created a vacancy for his position. And I learned a long time ago that by assuming the appearance of a go-getting exec, people think you are.
There were 3 candidates for his job, applications had to be in by the end of the month.
But the other two left the company under strange circumstances, didn’t bother handing their notices in – just went somewhere else.
So I got the job.
A nice corner office and a secretary to pretend I was important, but I could pretend much better than her.
You would think that all the odd happenings around me would incur some notice wouldn’t you? But today, people are more interested in their tv show than the world around them. Did you know that women are taught to scream “Fire” when attacked, because nobody will respond to “Help”? Apathy allows those outside of the lines to operate freely.
You just need to outward appearance of calm to get by.

And that’s where I’ve been so far, sitting in this office. Sometimes hours go by and I realise I’ve been lost in my thoughts but nobody cares, my secretary thinks it’s great, she has no real work to ruin her nails and if she gets in late I don’t care. She thinks I’m “sympathetic” to the hectic schedule of today’s single woman.
Which suits me.
But I know they talk about me, hushed whispers and averted eyes in the lift.
But what they don’t know is that each and every single day brings them closer to a reckoning with me.
Soon there will be screaming and fire and apologetic teary pleas for mercy.
Shame really, the only passion these people display is in their final moments.
Perhaps if they lived with 1% of that ferocity (and do not underestimate how hard someone will fight when they realise mortality is tapping their shoulders), then I would be out of a job.
But not in this age, not on this planet.
Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to smiling at my boss and compiling data reports for the board meeting.

I'll be seeing you around no doubt, but you'll have forgotten my face as soon as we pass in the street.

If you hadn't put "A story" at the end, it would have confused people, and, no doubt, scared people too.

But that's just a cover, isn't it? It is true really, hey? Hey? ;-)

Excellent. Great read.

You should write more stuff like this.

Yep.

Good read there Goatboy - I hope it is just a story ??

I can feel it coming again. Approaching like a storm.
Dark clouds gathering, signalling impending danger yet nobody seems to realise.
I know what will happen though, should I surrender myself to the imploring emotions and give in to the joy of violent movement then I’d be the bad man.
Go figure.
I’m not the one that sits in his cubicle day after day, filling my time with pointless emails about what I said at the weekend and who I did in some sordid little venue.
A brief encounter with another soul-less passenger in this life, a momentary respite from the crushing self-awareness that somewhere, somehow I blew my life.
I know they think I’m strange, I know they whisper about me when I’m not there. I see it in their glances as I walk past and I hear it in their strained voices when they try to include me in some pointless banter about a soap opera.
That’s why I had to do what I did.
They’ll tell you it was heavy metal or horror movies or some such “influence” but that’s not true. I don’t want my actions belittled by trying to apportion blame on such mundane outside circumstances.
No, the reason I did what I did was because of you.
Every person that thought it was clever to bully the quiet kid, every boss that thought it was a good idea to keep harassing me.
Every person that has ever foisted their opinions on others without asking first if that person minded.
…but I’m getting ahead of myself here, let me take you back.

I remember being told as a child that I was “a loner” by a teacher, and I remember her trying to make me feel bad because I didn’t join in with football and rugby. I could have, I just didn’t see the point. But they say wanting to spend time reading and writing is a bad thing for a child, you must be a “part of the crowd”.
I don’t want that, never had. As soon as you become part of the crowd, you lose your face. I didn’t want to lose my face amongst a sea of others.
I worked too hard at being me for that.
I always had this vague, unformed notion that I was different. I watched them play kiss-chase and tag and I never understood the need for interaction like that.
I remember the new kid, he kept wanting to be “my friend”. I tried to tell him I wasn’t interested but he didn’t get it.
So one day me and my new friend went playing by the river. He was noisy and thought it was the height of comedy to “save me” when I was in no danger of falling in.
They never did find him.

It was the same at college, I was there to learn stuff and get by but they insisted on trying to pull me along with them on trips to the pub and gigs. I went of course, I learned from an early age that resisting only makes you a target.
I tried to join in with the laughter and joking, but I had no heart for it. The words sounded odd and conversation ground to a halt, punctuated with uncomfortable silences and glances at the floor.
I never felt uncomfortable, it suited me just fine to see them realise just how mundane their lives were if this was the pinnacle of their entertainment.
There was one guy that thought I was “cool” and wanted to hang out with me.
I thought maybe he would understand how I saw the world and, after time, took him into my confidence.
But I was wrong – he didn’t understand and threatened to tell “authorities” about me. I explained how I was above that sort of thing, but he tried to get away and tell more lies about me.
They did find this one, but it had been too long for them to link him to me.
Not that I’m worried about that you understand, it’s just that I need more time before I announce my intentions to the world. It’s so much better to work in secret I’ve found. Revealing your plans too early only complicates matters.

After college I got a job. Some faceless office job in a global mega-corp. somewhere grey and noisy. I kept a low profile, did what was expected and never wasted time with chatter about how much I hated my partner or how badly behaved my kids were.
I came in, did my assigned tasks and went home to continue my research.
I didn’t trouble anyone.
Except the boss, some pseudo-yuppie wannabe in a power tie and matching braces wanted to climb higher up that job-pole and thought that by using me for a step, he might get there quicker.
Didn’t quite work out like that though.
He went missing one evening, he was seen getting his bus but after that nobody saw him until the neighbours complained about the smell.
Which created a vacancy for his position. And I learned a long time ago that by assuming the appearance of a go-getting exec, people think you are.
There were 3 candidates for his job, applications had to be in by the end of the month.
But the other two left the company under strange circumstances, didn’t bother handing their notices in – just went somewhere else.
So I got the job.
A nice corner office and a secretary to pretend I was important, but I could pretend much better than her.
You would think that all the odd happenings around me would incur some notice wouldn’t you? But today, people are more interested in their tv show than the world around them. Did you know that women are taught to scream “Fire” when attacked, because nobody will respond to “Help”? Apathy allows those outside of the lines to operate freely.
You just need to outward appearance of calm to get by.

And that’s where I’ve been so far, sitting in this office. Sometimes hours go by and I realise I’ve been lost in my thoughts but nobody cares, my secretary thinks it’s great, she has no real work to ruin her nails and if she gets in late I don’t care. She thinks I’m “sympathetic” to the hectic schedule of today’s single woman.
Which suits me.
But I know they talk about me, hushed whispers and averted eyes in the lift.
But what they don’t know is that each and every single day brings them closer to a reckoning with me.
Soon there will be screaming and fire and apologetic teary pleas for mercy.
Shame really, the only passion these people display is in their final moments.
Perhaps if they lived with 1% of that ferocity (and do not underestimate how hard someone will fight when they realise mortality is tapping their shoulders), then I would be out of a job.
But not in this age, not on this planet.
Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to get back to smiling at my boss and compiling data reports for the board meeting.

I'll be seeing you around no doubt, but you'll have forgotten my face as soon as we pass in the street.