<-- Bk Sp

When you mess up its there. Its there so often, you forget its there. As the ideas flow, the mind changes, the ambitions are pursued, as the fingers dance on the key board, the Back Space button is forever a pal. "Dear employer...I am desperate to be on my own. Not that I want to be working but because I want to be free from the burden of seeing a certain reflection of myself in my parents eyes. The certain reflection that screams, bum." But you can't really say that. In a free country you are only free as "free" entails. Being yourself is dangerous to your survival. So the Back space is clicked, clicked again, then pushed down till the sentence starts off like this: "Dear employer, I am a recent graduate from...I have work experience in...I value... would love the opportunity to speak with you," so I can communicate to you my desperation. In theory the Back Space should save me from the prospect of that certain reflection. In theory the academic path was the right way towards success. What did I gain from it? In essence, it limited the amounts of time I could press the button. Slowly and procedurally it trained the right pinky to stay focused, and urged it to pass on the temptation of going back. For, the best you do is the thing you do on time. There is only so much care can be put into a work before it "has to be" turned in. In theory the academia is a place for the development of the mind and potential job marketability. In essence the academia develops the a sense of urgency towards production "as fast" not production "with care." I am obviously equivocating "care" with a positive notion; something like "perfection is care;" and I guess you can have perfection with speed. Is it inherent in "progress" to be accelerating. For the walk allows a look ahead at the roadside debris. The fast moving train on the other hand, will take us all at a speed where glancing back is only a chance. Since there is a need for decrease in making mistakes and there is a desire for speed, it is a luxury for those who have the fast and sharp eyes to look back. Thus historicity presents itself as a paradox in pace.