w
whatever
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maybe I’ve been out of the game too long, but leaving something alive is a really nice touch.
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the perfect example of not knowing how you got the result cos I’m pretty sure I said muy amable to Siri
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all i saw my friends doing after they got back from their glorious trips was going through those precious trophy photos time and again as if desperately trying to hold onto the last trace of proof those days were existent. and they talked quite a lot about it as well, implying that was the peak of their lives, like what prom was to the popular kids in high school. 
but i don’t have the luxury of doing so as i lack the most fundamental memorabilia- photos. with the few images that i do have, i choose not to see. maybe because they do bring me more pain than pleasure. but the conclusion that i have come to settle with is that i believe those memories will change with how you continue to grow mentally as a person and experience life. by keeping those memories internal,they give me different insights on the different phases i am about to or will go through in life, as a small part of me. 
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I used to think commuting a burden and a waste of time, until today. when I saw all the very fashion-alert people owning their respective styles from head to foot moving and breathing around me like I was experiencing a live street snap visual. this was rare like an eclipse cos it’s hard to find such variance in style in such a short amount of time and at the same place. and the styling doesn’t just stop with the increases of age, I’ve witnessed a middle aged man with a fit physic and a healthy tan easily owning the casual nautical look. and the other time three seniors dressed in black suits and fedoras lining the seats of a bus, gallantly reliving their glory days. it’s the little random things that brings a little sumthin sumthin to a otherwise normal day at the office. 
they’re the bunch that you’d seldom likely to bump into had you led a normal nine-to-five life. the ones that brings spark to your life. 

I don’t even know why I’m writing this. maybe halfheartedly believing that this will convince me I still have love for my job. but a slim chance at that.
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I hate this job. I’m only three months in and I’m starting to neglect my health, my workout, my family, my friends, my interests, my youth and the list goes on. I know it’s a better than average pay but why should I give up that big a part of me to earn that minimal margin. the way I see it now is that it’s so not worth it. I’m not getting enough sleep, only becoming more emotionally paralyzed by the day, because whenever does emotion go with ration. 
I hate that I’m becoming so robotic, only getting emotional when someone does something inefficient that as a result wastes my time. I hate that I have to measure everything with efficiency. it’s so inhumane. so not understanding. so not me. but in order for me to save time, I yell at my friends and my family for them to keep up with my pace. then I hate myself afterwards for being so rude and inconsiderate.
but I think more than anything, I hate that I don’t have a life anymore. it’s a lot to ask of me when all I get in return is sore eyes, a stiff neck and a fat ass. I’m out.
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