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Work.mp3

Jack Lemmon as C C Baxter in “The Apartment” (1960) IMDb

On Mondays I feel invincible,

until I don’t.

Sometimes.

I go to work and slave the time away,

and eat and drink, as I’m supposed to.

But then I return und feel full, not just nurtured,

feel properly saturated, watered and fertilized.

It makes me sick.

Because no matter how many wholesome meals,

and HR approved activities,

genuine customer interactions,

and gamified tasks,

and serene pictures on the office walls,

I found my personal hell.

Sending emails up the hill for a better Outlook,

my kidney julietted,

by tasteless executions.

Staring at me,

the deep blue on my desktop –

want to restart…

but shut down instead,

and everyone’s windows are closed,

until another day,

of mindless tasks and trials,

and serials und secret passwords,

is hushed away with a patch that doesn’t fix

what my soft little hardware cannot process.

A life in operated systems,

of keys that lock us down,

to silent screens with HD sheens,

like mice chasing a cursor,

that crave to be unplugged,

find a beauty in the search,

and pleasure on the pad.

Just Listen, their excitement,

is left and right,

is every click,

a melody of joy,

a song you cannot spotify,

the tune of your employ.

 

 

Julian listened to work.mp3 in his head while writing work.mp3 instead of working but thought of the “unhappy, unhappy” song from Mel Brook’s “The Producers”, while doing so.
PS: I actually do like my job
PPS: Really!

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07/12/2020 Jaykaytba

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holly, jolly book recs for the holidays → ← Books That Made Me Unreasonably Angry (or: books NOT to get your loved ones for Christmas)

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