Let me just type as fast as possible what I typed in the office today before I go to sleep and wake up at around midnight.
------------------------------
Well I don't exactly know what I'm doing. It's three-twenty-two now. Few more hours to freedom. I've decided to type over here at my workplace, print it out and transfer it over when I get home. I just can't seem to stop thinking when I'm over here in the office and back hoem I just blank out. Since I've got the time, why not?
I still remember the days when I was a trainee. There's once where we got to book out o National day. It made me conclude that the very act of going home and staying overnight, wipes quite a chunk of our memories. Back then each of us had to keep a diary in which we have to log every single event. And after we booked in, none of us were able to recall what we did just two days ago (less those that lgoged events down in real time); in fact, it felt very much like a weekend bookout. Why's this so? Perhaps we are all mindless zombies. Few would want to be here. The brain simply shuts off. There's nothing of any worth remembering either.
I recall chatting to mates when I was a botak. During our time 'inside', quite a few of us felt emotionless. No sense of time, no anger, not much thoughts. Akin to floating logs in the sea. Just waiting for time to pass, waiting somewhat helplessly. There weren't much things to look forward to either. Meals, personal free time and booking out.
Quite abit of sidetracking there. Basically I've been stoning my brains out almost everyday. Sitting in front of the computer doing nothign because most of the work I'm supposed to do requires some form of action taken by a third party, things that are just beyond my control. For instance, getting signatures, waiting for email replise, waiting for verifications etc. Other than that, I waste my life clicking around, keying in values and adjusting table size, reprinting and printing coverslips for documents because 'they' say 'the format is not standard'. Right now it's quite scary. Many a times I find myself pinching myself and find it all so weird. Like, hey, I don't recall seeing myself in this uniform doing this work in the first place. Where am I? Why am I doing these? Disorientated sense of time and place. I just found myself twiddling my left collar. There was a collar pin there, not too long ago.
I'm slowly opening up to the rest of the people in my office. Today was good. None of our superiors were in the office today. And so my seniors were playing red alert 2 via LAN. Playing arcade games with cute little sprites. Time is relative, and today it seems to pass rather quickly.
Still, I'm particular about my 'time of release' whether or not I'm enjoying life here. In fact, it was into my second week in here that I started fiddling around with excel spreadsheets, deriving formulas so that it would automatically countdown and keep track of days for me. 181 days in service. 489 days to go. 49 days in this office. Week 26 of 96 currently. Frankly speaking I'm not too sure what I would be doing when I become a 'free man'. Pertaining to life after studies. Life seems uncertain. But on the rhetorical side, how can I be sure I would live till then?
------------------------------
Well I don't exactly know what I'm doing. It's three-twenty-two now. Few more hours to freedom. I've decided to type over here at my workplace, print it out and transfer it over when I get home. I just can't seem to stop thinking when I'm over here in the office and back hoem I just blank out. Since I've got the time, why not?
I still remember the days when I was a trainee. There's once where we got to book out o National day. It made me conclude that the very act of going home and staying overnight, wipes quite a chunk of our memories. Back then each of us had to keep a diary in which we have to log every single event. And after we booked in, none of us were able to recall what we did just two days ago (less those that lgoged events down in real time); in fact, it felt very much like a weekend bookout. Why's this so? Perhaps we are all mindless zombies. Few would want to be here. The brain simply shuts off. There's nothing of any worth remembering either.
I recall chatting to mates when I was a botak. During our time 'inside', quite a few of us felt emotionless. No sense of time, no anger, not much thoughts. Akin to floating logs in the sea. Just waiting for time to pass, waiting somewhat helplessly. There weren't much things to look forward to either. Meals, personal free time and booking out.
Quite abit of sidetracking there. Basically I've been stoning my brains out almost everyday. Sitting in front of the computer doing nothign because most of the work I'm supposed to do requires some form of action taken by a third party, things that are just beyond my control. For instance, getting signatures, waiting for email replise, waiting for verifications etc. Other than that, I waste my life clicking around, keying in values and adjusting table size, reprinting and printing coverslips for documents because 'they' say 'the format is not standard'. Right now it's quite scary. Many a times I find myself pinching myself and find it all so weird. Like, hey, I don't recall seeing myself in this uniform doing this work in the first place. Where am I? Why am I doing these? Disorientated sense of time and place. I just found myself twiddling my left collar. There was a collar pin there, not too long ago.
I'm slowly opening up to the rest of the people in my office. Today was good. None of our superiors were in the office today. And so my seniors were playing red alert 2 via LAN. Playing arcade games with cute little sprites. Time is relative, and today it seems to pass rather quickly.
Still, I'm particular about my 'time of release' whether or not I'm enjoying life here. In fact, it was into my second week in here that I started fiddling around with excel spreadsheets, deriving formulas so that it would automatically countdown and keep track of days for me. 181 days in service. 489 days to go. 49 days in this office. Week 26 of 96 currently. Frankly speaking I'm not too sure what I would be doing when I become a 'free man'. Pertaining to life after studies. Life seems uncertain. But on the rhetorical side, how can I be sure I would live till then?
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home