The Praying Mantis of a job

I know nothing about blogging. I do, however, know an awful lot about dreaming, and imagining, and creating stories. But these days I don't dream anymore, and I hardly imagine (apart from leaving my job at the end of the day), and the stories are stilted by mundane everyday tasks that I get paid for. I had a vision once. These days I have to mentally push through a fog to find it. I had a vision once of making stories; of living in a world of words. These days I have a job. A job that generates money. A job that neither begs nor needs imagination or creativity. A wordless job. A praying mantis of a job which has already beheaded me, and pinning me tight, hollowing me out, will leave behind a shell of no one I know. I know nothing about blogging. But I do know this is my first step back into the life I am suppose to lead.