Thursday, May 15, 2008
we're all whores
The ties, business jackets, leather shoes and high-end bags are just cover-ups. When you get to the basics, we're all out in the so-called corporate world to sell ourselves with the main objective of trying to please others.
We dress "appropriately" for our jobs. We just use more yards of cloth, but the idea is the same - dressing to please. To suit the people we work for. To be attractive, presentable and credible, fit to interact with the clients we serve. So we can persuade them to say yes. And convince them to see validity of our argument. At the very least, arrive at an amicable compromise. We all want impose authority, posture superiority, demand that the job be done.
Well, because we are paid to do it, and they are paid to do it. We're all paid to do what we have to do. Sometimes we like it. Sometimes we totally abhor it. But we grind our teeth into a smile, clench our bound fists, and bear it. Because yes, we are paid to do the job, whatever kind of job it is. It may not be a job that involves standing at a street corner or a badly lit club, but hey, who are we kidding. The computer screens we face, the desk and big chair we sit in, the fancy flippy desk calendar - they don't change anything.
We're all just glorified prostitutes. So saying "fuck you" to a colleague, co-worker or client shouldn't really be so offensive.
Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.
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alamat ni kuya jeff
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Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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