There is an individual who works for about 9 hours a day. Commutes the same route. Parks at the same spot. Enters the workplace from the same door. And then sits in a square called a cubicle, where he will be spending rest of his days, months and the years to come, just to make his ends meet.
Sometimes I feel, what an irony are these cubicles, we, the most of the crowd, spend so many months and years just so that one we could break out of those four walls. And then explore the world that is very different from those four walls of the cubicle?
Its like we are stuck there with our own will, we have trapped ourselves in those four walls, just so that slogging inside them will one day give us the freedom that we need. But, then after some years, we are all become complacent of those four walls and never want to leave them again.
Many swear by those four walls and become afraid of actually exploring the real world out there… That is when you enlighten what power the cubicle hold over you… It just becomes a second home for you, you spend about 9 hours out waking hours in that small confined space…
Cubicle, a place where most of our years are spent and these years just fleet by you… that is when you wonder, what if I had tried something different? Or is this where I will be for the rest of my life?
