Dignity
Maybe if he had more work to do his mind wouldn’t wander as much. Maybe it would. Maybe if he had more work to do he would have quit his job, because as bored as he was, the only thing worse he could think of was actually working. There’s no dignity in work, he thought. He had known that for a while. His new and more interesting discovery was that there was little dignity in anything else either. Art was undignified, especially if you went looking for dignity in it. Love too was undignified in the end. How can we possibly have dignity when we all care so much about ourselves? It’s disgusting, he thought, how much we truly, genuinely care about our tiny little selves.
A short story by James Bennett.