If you get drunk with me, I'll do it.
Feels like a fetish experience being strapped into work today. Am I working or deconstructing my life in slow mechanical pieces? There’s an engine at work here, bilious smoke retching itself out around me. The chair I’m on wheels itself around and keeps making me wondering if I’m sitting in it or watching someone else in waxen profusion attempt to be me. I don’t know. It’s not really worth perusing.
The whole work area is like a big box of flash-frozen people, wondering when life is going to rewind back to the moment they remember best. Keeping up their faith that life is somehow going to revolve back to that last second they’re stuck in when what was new meant to them it was still so far away from being recycled. The loop is shrinking, now there are fewer gaps between new and renewed, the population of those kept wondering grows exponentially. Everyone is old now the minute they realize they aren’t thinking like they aren’t. It really isn’t that the period of time youth lasts has been expanded, that’s just a cover up. What’s going on is that middle age is going to set in quicker. Machine evolution is going to make redundant that whole generation who were the ‘first’ to grow up on word processors museum quality specimens. Now if you’re not part of the first generation to know PDA and cellular videomail, you’re ancient history. Remember pagers? I don’t. I’m over it, I don’t care. My body can get wretched, but my computer will be current.
I work with a primed woman. Her biological clock seems more like a hand grenade. It isn’t ticking; we’re in slow motion and watching as the firing mechanism drops from the pin. You can imagine that the shrapnel is going to be on a level of terror reserved for Lifetime made-for-TV movies.
There are 6 people in my department. All of them are well educated. Scholarly. Well read and cultured. All of them are barely that much older than me. All of them are trapped in a tape-loop of rumor, recess name-calling, and endless searching for a memory of what cool was. Well, it was never partnered with you then; it’s not going to happen now.
I don’t know why I care, it takes up so many useful sensory perceptions just to observe. Perhaps it’s because I have no choice. They don’t provide any alternative programming. It’s an antenna-reception only workplace. Cable is totally out of the question. And it’s all reruns.
~m
The whole work area is like a big box of flash-frozen people, wondering when life is going to rewind back to the moment they remember best. Keeping up their faith that life is somehow going to revolve back to that last second they’re stuck in when what was new meant to them it was still so far away from being recycled. The loop is shrinking, now there are fewer gaps between new and renewed, the population of those kept wondering grows exponentially. Everyone is old now the minute they realize they aren’t thinking like they aren’t. It really isn’t that the period of time youth lasts has been expanded, that’s just a cover up. What’s going on is that middle age is going to set in quicker. Machine evolution is going to make redundant that whole generation who were the ‘first’ to grow up on word processors museum quality specimens. Now if you’re not part of the first generation to know PDA and cellular videomail, you’re ancient history. Remember pagers? I don’t. I’m over it, I don’t care. My body can get wretched, but my computer will be current.
I work with a primed woman. Her biological clock seems more like a hand grenade. It isn’t ticking; we’re in slow motion and watching as the firing mechanism drops from the pin. You can imagine that the shrapnel is going to be on a level of terror reserved for Lifetime made-for-TV movies.
There are 6 people in my department. All of them are well educated. Scholarly. Well read and cultured. All of them are barely that much older than me. All of them are trapped in a tape-loop of rumor, recess name-calling, and endless searching for a memory of what cool was. Well, it was never partnered with you then; it’s not going to happen now.
I don’t know why I care, it takes up so many useful sensory perceptions just to observe. Perhaps it’s because I have no choice. They don’t provide any alternative programming. It’s an antenna-reception only workplace. Cable is totally out of the question. And it’s all reruns.
~m