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“It’s not enough that you sell your wak­ing life for min­i­mum wage, but they get your dreams for free”

Monday night, I had my first C# dream.

I later dreamed I ran into an old friend of mine from High School, who I haven’t thought of recently. Charcoal grey and white tiling, just pass­ing her by, until I noticed who she was. She smiled at me, and I acted all geeked to see her, but that was it.

Both Monday and Tuesday I ended up putting in over nine hours of actual legit­i­mate work, plus about a half-hour worth of breaks. Combine that with the two hour dri­ves and the wakeup, and I end up flush­ing 13 hours of my day to some igno­rant fuck that not only has no con­cep­tion of what I do for a liv­ing, but fol­lows it up with the belief that 35k a year is too much for me to be paid. I got “talked to” for report­ing my over­time this after­noon, so I took off early and

The trans­par­ent “blah­blah­blah” bull­shit is start­ing to get to me too, watch­ing some­one else’s sales guys try to talk shit, and my boss try to return the serve, when I could be doing use­ful work instead really gets under my skin. Like I don’t have enough to do with­out hav­ing to spend an hour sub­merged in lies for profit.

So yes­ter­day night rolls around, and I spend it with a girl I used to date… obvi­ously because I’m a glut­ton for pun­ish­ment. That lit­tle exer­cise in soul-immolation set me back about three months, but I was sur­prised how quickly I’ve rebounded: I had reached the “fuck the world” level of frus­tra­tion by the time I was dri­ving home today. Last time around it took me about a month and a half of worldly bull­shit to reach that level of pissed-off.

This week I also real­ized the true mean­ing of the Statue of Liberty: a chick with a torch backed up by a peas­ant mob. Rock.

Lastly, I looked into Second Life… and dis­coved it’s essen­tially an an anarcho-capitalist vision of this life. Lots of drug-inspired cos­tumes and body mod­i­fi­ca­tion crammed into a mon­u­men­tal fuck­ing shop­ping mall.

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