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Why I Like Work.


Now that I've begun this post like an elementary school essay, I'll go on to tell you why I like work. But please don't let the topic of this post confuse you. I'm gonna tell you why I like work. But I don't. I can't wait to get out of this place. But I've been looking at my blog and over the past few weeks its been a little.. uh.. well, its not too sunshiny. Plus nobody cares a fuck about the state of my mind anyway. So I made a decision to go all positive (which is a first in nineteen years). You know, the two sides to every coin bullshit. (Which really is load of crap though. You really can't find a brightside to everything. Like- hey look there's a tsunami! Now we dont have to go to the market to buy fish! Pretty retarded point of view, if you see what I mean.)

So anyway, I've been thinking that underneath all the cribbing, there's got to be a part of me that appreciates working at Green (name changed to save my neck).

  • Now I know that Ad is bullshit. Or atleast its not what I want to spend the rest of my short life doing. Which means I wont waste time trying it out after I'm done with college.
  • I get free coffee. Its fun.
  • I blog everyday. Something I don't think I'd do unless I was bored to death and stuck in front of a comp all day.
  • When random people ask me what I'm doing, its fun to tell them I'm working at Green. You see, for most of my life I've been that kid who doesn't know what the fuck comes after college. Of course, I still don't know what the fuck comes after college, but the random people don't know that do they. Its fun pretending I have my life planned out and all that.
  • If I was at home, I'd get the what-the-fuck-you-gonna-do-about-your-future lecture and the you-better-start-studying-for-the-CAT lecture every alternate day and on weekends and public holidays too.
  • I still feel like a waste of space, but only partly. Like around 30% of me feels pretty purposeful.
  • The chairs. I have two chairs I use here- a chair chair, which I use in the morning, and a bed chair, which leans waaay back which I use in the afternoon when I'm sleepy. I like the bed chair.
  • I'm online all the time and, for once, its not because I'm jobless. Its because I have a job. Ha!
  • I'm just grateful I have somewhere to go everyday. I'd be depressed as hell otherwise.
  • Keeps my mind off some nasty stuff. Thank god. 

Thank you, Green.
*solemn face*

Thats enough positivity for one day. What say?

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Vox Imports

Tech-savvy health freak

Gmail convo with Zeenie:- 



me: i kno
not as untechsavvy as i used to be
 zeenat: how how
 me: not
i kno dat if i prop my feet up on the carton below my desk im in danger of switchin off my comp wid my feet by mistake
so i make sure i sit still.
 zeenat: thats human right violations kitu
you have the right to freedom of movement
 me: but but but
i want my comp n n i also want to stretch my legs
i cn move my left foot..
 Sent at 4:58 PM on Thursday
 zeenat: what if you suffer from atrophy
in your right leg
 me: i wont
 zeenat: [not withstanding brain atrophy of course]
 me: once in a wile i change position so my rite leg can move
i take off my shoes n sit lik a buddha on my chair sumtimes
 zeenat: thats a good thing
 me: [ignores comment in brackets]
like a buddha
 Sent at 5:01 PM on Thursday


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I'm fucking depressed today. I have nothing to do. I doubt I can leave before 9.30 or 10. Who is it you keep talking to? It's way too cold here, even with a sweatshirt on. I'd play pool if someone came upstairs with me but not really don't want to see their faces. I'd play guitar but I think they'll ask why I'm not writing lines and I don't want to write lines and I don't want anything else to do either. I think I should go home now but they won't let me or maybe I'd go to college. That meeting I'm missing- might have turned out to be a nice day if I'd gone to college instead. I wish you'd lie to me sometimes. My hands are freezing a bit. I think my luck will change when the ink in this pen runs out. It lasted through all my papers and two months more and I think my luck will get worse when it runs out but how much worse can it get? I wish I could post sensibly if nothing else but I think I'm brain-dead today. My phone almost never rings anymore and when it does its nobody I'd rather not hang up on. But I've seen the scraps and I'm not even dreaming anymore. You're a fucking bastard sometimes. There's going to be loads of place in the train today, cos I'm not leaving early anyhow. Yesterday was fun. I wish you'd written me atleast one.

Imagine being schizo.


ps- is that what stream of consciousness is?

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Okay, there's only so much pissed-offness you can handle before you punch someone. And I'm this close to reaching the punching-point. Its ten in the morning, and I could have been at Mondy's working on a supercool event. But no. The powers-that-be suggest that I stay put in a pointless job (not so much suggest as yell till my ears fall off) and so here I am, venting my fury in a blog no one reads (not the powers-that-be at least, thankfully).

This is what I'm supposed to be getting out of working at Green (name changed to save my neck, not too subtle but yeah): a Learning Experience. Well yes, I am learning a lot. I'm learning all about the Art Of Writing Single Lines For Capitalist Bastards Who Sell Cars At Exorbitant Prices. And not to forget, if you ever type a document and send it to Green, I might just be the one making sure you've not put in extra spaces and stuck all the apostrophes in the wrong place as some idiots are likely to do. Also I'll be wondering why the fuck you can't proof read your own stuff or at least write like you're literate. And if you think that developing the ability to notice an extra space at one glance leaves me with a sense of acheivement, well, then you're a sad loser and I'll forward all documents to you henceforth.

Point being this is no learning experience. I learnt that this is not the job for me, which is a good thing. I learnt that I might become a champion carrom player if I stick here for another month. I learnt that if I want to go home at all, I should shut up and act invisible till 9.30 p.m. and then ask hesitantly if maybe I could leave.

Not like I'm getting paid either, just fyi.

So. I don't get a Learnimg Experience, I don't enjoy what I'm doing (WHEN I'm doing something, i.e.), food here sucks, I'm missing all my Malhar meetings, I suffer mild nervous breakdowns due to the trauma of not knowing when to leave, I'm never coming back to this place or to this profession, I don't give a fuck about contacts I'll make in an industry I'll never return to, AND it's not like they'll feel the difference if I quit.

So why am I still here?



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What do you do when everything you need walks out the door and tells you that there's no hope of ever coming back? When you give it all away for a lie, paid back in blows, in little bruises that don't heal, but fold away like the sun at night. There's only so much you can lose at one time. And you're left kneeling by the window in the wall of your mind, staring at the grey of the sea and the sky and dreaming and pleading and aching to drown. Because nobody taught you to fly.


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