Monday, December 3, 2007

Cubicule Confinement

Original Post 30 Jan 2007


This is a prison. Everywhere i turn, i see gray walls. There is no sun light, only artificial neon brightness. Every day is a fight. I must not fall asleep. So i drink coffee. Cheap, disgusting coffee. Poor more sugah into it. And chug that hot brown liquid.

This is a nightmare.

A guy at work asks me what are my goals within the company. I fight the urge to answer... i don't give a fuck. I look at him straight in the eyes, and raise my shoulders. He raises his eyebrows, puzzled. What do you want to do here, he asks again. I tell him, we'll see later.

Truth is, i don't plan on staying here very long. It sucks. I hate it. It's depressing. But the pay's good. So i keep telling myself, just take it. Bend over and take it, and think of the money they are pouring down your throat at the same time. I'm getting sandwiched, holding on to whatever i can, take it as long as i can.

It's gonna sound gross, but i do it for my dad.

He thinks he's doing me a favor, bringing me to his company, giving me a good job with possibilities of advencement. He doesn't know i plan on leaving as soon as i go back to school. He doesn't understand that i'd rather be cleaning dishes at the hospital, with the boys, where we could fart and talk sex and drink whiskey in the locker room, or party all night and come totally wrecked the next day and people would laugh and move on.

Well, my diner is over. Time to go back to pretending to work and like it. I'll go drink some more coffee, listen to some Leftöver Crack in my headphones, and wonder if it would be fun to play on Guitar Hero II.

''Cubicule Confinment, waiting for retirement'' - Kings of Nothing

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