I dove deeply into my thoughts, thinking about the world economy and jobs and money and all these things for long hours. It is no good to dwell on these things for long. The way I approach my job needs to be healthy, otherwise I am sure I will find excuses to work less, or not at all. I really don't want to be one of those who talk about the horrors of the world in order to remain inert. And also, if you think about something for long with anger you become this thing, its opposite, its cousin.
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you." - Nietzsche
I felt bad these days. So bad I thought of killing the little computer assistant floating beside my text on word. Felt helpless cos I kept thinking about what I mentioned a few posts ago. It makes a lot of sense, but I need to work, and I want more for myself, but I couldn't stop thinking about blowing it all up. Sometimes I think working damages my brain, especially when I need to give my mind space to it. My mind space is the thing I value the most. That's why I like doing what I do. After my shift I go home and completely forget about it. No residues, nothing. I get home and make music with all my heart.
I had to see my job in a new light today, and I did. Last night my mind wouldn't stop. I was about to cry, when I found this Meditation Center. Nothing new about it. Lovely exercises on how to meditate, you know. Practiced a few, felt happy, relaxed, and went to bed. This morning I had to work for fucking Coca-cola again!! But now I had an idea. Breathing exercises. Breath in deeply, scream out strongly, breath in deeply, scream out inverting the words, just like Hare Krishnas do. My body was happy, full of life, my mind so clear.
Bosses were there again, but this time not only the agency, but the Coke people as well. They stopped in front of me, amazed. They actually had a meeting in front of me, admiring how the campaign works so well. I felt the little demon creeping into my thoughts for a few seconds. What are they doing here? Fuck off you twats!! No, Paula, don't stare at the abyss, breath.
They took pictures of me, which I enjoyed very much, and the demon went away with the samples. Team leader happy, extra money for the effort, mind awake, I made it! I made my job useful! Useful and healthy for myself at least.
Left home. In the bus, the phone rings. An agency wants me to do mystery shopping. Oh, absolutely! I am going to spend 3 days going to cafes to evaluate the services, eating for free, getting paid good money for it. Oh, yes, that makes everything easier! Really, sometimes I think I think too much...
3 comments:
Inert is an odd word. Being the root of inertia, which, in terms of physics, is truly schizoid. Being that it means either to stay at rest or stay in motion, unless acted on by something else.
My inertia lost its mojo awhile back, but I don't blame it on monsters, or staring into the abyss. I blame it on Sergei Prokofiev. Him and Nietzsche.
Back to salps, are we?
I kill the little office assistant 5 times, before breakfast! That's how bad I am! Grrrrrrr! Then I shoot up heroin into my neck, hitting the plunger in with a sledgehammer, and pick up my 2 machineguns and go out... Grrrr!!!... to burn some churches and pee on grannies! Usually I come back because I forgot my keys and jerry-can of petrol, and I kill the office assistant a few more times, just 'cause I'm so pissed off at this miserable world that spawned me... Aurghhh! Grrr!
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