Robert Frost is turning in his grave...

So much to say. Too much space to say it.

White space. So nice and clean. An empty canvas.

And I come in and fuck it all up with pointless ramblings and poor attempts at humor.

How did it come to this?

I think I was happy at one point.

I used to come to work, excited by the very prospect of working in a real life advertising agency.

Unfortunately, I'm still searching for a real life advertising agency.

I used to believe.

That the idea was king.

And that, most importantly, everyone from the overeager intern to, yes, even the bewildered client believed in the paramount importance of the idea.

That a great idea can inspire.

Change. Encourage. Persuade.

Even enlighten.

Unfortunately, this belief, this mantra is always received with condescending smiles and nodding heads.

"Oh, look," they think. "Another young, idealistic creative. How cute."

They've been there. It's why they understand your desire and appreciate your passion. But they know better.

They've fought carefully chosen battles and may have even won a few. But they're hardened, weary from endless meetings and pointless client ramblings and clueless account managers.

They know the "real" advertising world, and it's the one where the bottom line, not the idea, is top dog.

It's the one where they would never, under any circumstance or amount of wasted time and work, fire the client.

After all, that makes paying bills a lot more difficult.

But, in the end, much more satisfying.



The path of least resistance.

The road most traveled.

The way it should never be.

And yet it's what I've become.