You Are Not Your Job.

You are not your job. You are not the money in your bank account. You are not the car you drive. You are not the plastic in your wallet. You are not your fucking khakis. You are not your automatic floor-cleaning robot. You are not your theater system. You are not your cell phone. You are not your sunglasses. You are not your ultrasonic cleaning toothbrush. You are not your overly large computer monitor. You are not your watch. You are not the library of books in your home. You are not your stock portfolio. You are not your vast collection of music stored on your computer hard drive. You are not your ergonomic mesh office chair. You are not your wardrobe. You are not your wine collection. You are not your matching loveseat and sofa. You are not your ipod. You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You are a blade of grass in an endless field waving in the wind like everyone else. When you are gone no one will notice. You are just like every other blade of grass. You are not special.