Obligatory "ignore this space" : https://sacoronavirus.co.za

Industry: what a word for the work-o-sphere. Before school, I was given the promise that it was only to be twelve years. I remember this clearly, because it was part of my decision to have an awkward eleven years in preference to outshining everyone my age. The stories of my reading to the class have been repeated over and over and over again.

'That boy will get himself an easy income, surely!'

This by a passing stranger who took a sneak preview at what I'm writing.

After school, we were told to make ourselves useful. But I didn't really have a choice as to what to do. My parents suggested that everybody knows what I'm good at, somebody will find my skills useful, and nobody will care that I'm just repeating a mistake that hardly anybody knows about. Hardly anybody doesn't feel like a deal of repetition is what the work-o-sphere is about.

Industry is about making things, not people. But the work-o-sphere's main job is the maintenance of positions. And this was something I had to run away from: my skills meant that only a killer-app would get me a wife of any description. I haven't seen that much has changed.

The industry of old might have been a place where a boy can live just as mommy wants him to.

I do not want to offend my parents, but it seems we're having difficulty facing the fact of a full grown son having to live two lives, for the better feelings of his parents.