Second Vexation

Nah Sis... I'm on a different level that I don’t need to go through this again. For starters I'm not a quitter... I know that. Yeah, I once quit a bicycle race, my bus-boy job in a restaurant, and even quit on my son. I don’t give up easily. I do fucking know that, but this situation is vicious, it is so fucking vicious that it is hard to conceptualize it as other thing but vicious. Besides I'm not a rookie or a recent college graduate that needs so desperately an opportunity. It was not about been looked down, but it was about this fucking vicious receptiveness and reassurance drills that I had to go through everyday. It is sick my friend, it is so fucking sick that you have no idea, in sum it is viciousness at its very best. Sure it was good money, but it does NOT worth the trauma.

No manches! Yesterday at 5:30 PM, he (the guy who I no longer working with—thank God) wanted to talk to me for 15 minutes, he called but the fucking call last it more than 60 minutes, he talked and talked about his fucking anguish that interferes with his thought process, on top he added that he didn’t feel I was committed to this job; all these fucking feelings are for nothing because I don’t want nobody to feel for me this or that. I had done enough to prove myself that I care about my work. What else does he want me to do? He wants reassurance everyday which gets from me in plenty doses, but yesterday I reached a point that I could no longer reassurance him. He has these bad habits of telling you that things are going good, that he likes what he sees, and on and on he labels things I do as perfect, fantastic, excellent. But next day his bug is back and I have to repeat myself again and again.

Cockiness, over-confidence, go ahead and label me. Nah Sis, I’m on a different level, my resume can do the talk, and my former coworkers (people I have collaborated with) can speak of my resilience and execution. But let’s get the record straight, I’m not a quitter and neither myself and me never will be.

First Vexation

I am in such a lassitude that I can hardly incorporate into living. I thought of not living today and I chose to remain silent; I'm annoyed of all things and subjects surrounding me. I'm under the shadow of somber thoughts; at least is one of my justifications of not wanting to see what’s around me. Why did I wake up in the first place? Days like this are incorrigible; time is insufficient when I wish not to think and see or feel nothing; I prefer to sleep until better eyes see.