The worst kind of prison is the one you can’t see.
You’re probably familiar with the concept of the
third fourth wall — either from movies like Fight Club (the first rule of the cube mind is we do share the URL to the cube mind), shows like the Netflix original House of Cards (where Kevin Spacey tells us his schemes to take over the White House, right in front of his cohorts, much like the current oversized Oompa-Loompa running the country), or maybe (and infinitely less likely) plays…a play, any play? — I mean, let’s face it, most of us are millennials; we hardly know how to tie our shoelaces, let alone find the nearest stage of players. (Note to self: watch more plays.)
So what’s the third wall? Here’s how we define it; the third wall: a metaphorical representation of a life barrier; an existence spent primarily, and begrudgingly, within the corporate (jail) cell, usually in the pursuit of shit you don’t need. It’s an invisible prison. Much like The Matrix. One you can’t smell, can’t touch. But it’s there. It’s in your mind — which is why it’s so dangerous. And you’re stuck living behind it.
We’ve already used the Matrix as an analogy for the third wall, might as well run with it: In this analogy, you’re Mr. Anderson (a.k.a Neo, the “One”), but you’re too busy clicking away your miserable life in your miserable cube (at least you have a window view of the garbage cans outside) on your miserable oil-stained (hopefully *only* oil-stained) keyboard, which mocks you with its very sound — clickety clack clack. Too busy to realize you have the ability to stop bullets with your mind, restructure the world around you as you see fit. Too busy to notice that Agent Smith, your corporate overload, is on his way to fuck you up — insert little squirming mechanical centipedes into your bellybutton — before you understand what you’re truly capable of. The only way out is by swallowing that Red Pill. *Ring ring* This is Morpheus, sending you a personal invitation to wake the fuck up and eat “tasty wheat” breakfasts in the “real” world, one structured around your passions and dreams instead of morning, mid-morning, afternoon, and mid-afternoon meetings. But you’ll never see the real world, not with your head shoved six inches up the corporate asshole — it’s a dark place.
The worst kind of prison is the one you can’t identify.
Over the course of our journey, we want to help you became more aware of the third wall. When it’s most present. When it’s crushing you. Navigating beyond the corporate asshole is a dark and smelly journey. But it’s one adventure worth taking.
Now that we’ve defined our prison, identified it. Let’s break out. Shall we begin?