Showing posts with label sitel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sitel. Show all posts

How It's done

29 August 2009

I wake up.

I turn in bed, trying not to crush the cigarettes I always leave under my pillow, I check the time from my phone, I grab my wallet from inside my pillow. My towel, my dipper with all my toiletries, my blue slippers, all in that order, I go to the bathroom and bathe.

I am dressed.
I walk out to buy the usual, spanish bread, RC cola, smoke some left over cigarettes from yesterday, time to go.

I wait.
I wait until it is two hours before work before going to work, I wait and smoke and internet and walk around Quezon city. Quezon city is not flinching, Quezon city is fighting my mood with its life, its mechanical life, Quezon city cannot win with its MRTs and Buses and Jeeps and Malls and Buildings and Life.

I go to work,
All drained, all tired, all set up for a miserable day, expecting misery and stress and annoyance, I love hating this job, it drains me but reminds me of life, of my life, of a life for me.

I sleep,
I dream of how much I hate routine. And what a beautiful dream it is.

Ice Cream

28 June 2009

I melt like an Ice cream,


When the sky is as black as your jet brunnette,
And Sepia lights from street lamps color the street,
I can see the moon and stars in your eyes,
As you breathe life into the night.

There's nothing I can do
There's no way to stop it,
I melt like an ice cream when I'm with you.

When the wind blows soft on your face,
It whispers to me to erase,
Everything I can remember
To leave just you and me forever.

Whenever I feel my little fears,
I feel much better with you near,
Whenever I feel the need to die,
You come over and share a cry,
But even if you just stay silent,
I melt like an ice cream when I'm with you.

(T/H)ired

24 April 2009

The headhunters were after me, I dreamed, they ran after me in a mob, and more of them came out of every corner of a distorted version of Emerald Avenue., jumping out of buildings, wearing their suits, and blazers, holding their machetes and flailing a severed head of some Ancient Mayan tribesman. They trapped me in the corner of Commonwealth avenue and Shaw Boulevard (it said so on the street sign), and they jumped at me and ate every bit of flesh in my body, even the severed heads ripped flesh from my bones, and they took my bones and ripped me apart from the joints. They gnawed on my bones, and I could still feel them, I was still alive.

I got a job, and i'll be paid pretty well, I'm not dreaming of getting a car the first few months, but a pair of Tough Jeansmith jeans sound really tempting for first payday.

I waited in the holding area, in my dream, and I sit in a black plastic chair in the middle of a room filled with black plastic chairs exactly the same. On them sit men and women in ties and dress shirts and bussiness shirts and slacks and leather shoes, and blouses and sandals and more shoes. They were faceless and motionless and sat like they were being watched by some divine drill seargeant. The walls were covered in socks, black dress socks, and when I realized this the place a few inches above my ankle hurt, where my dress socks always seem to cut on my skin.  I scratch it and I felt nothing I looked down to see I had no ankles, I had no feet, I had nothing from the knee down, it was already floor, like the floor was rising and erasing everything in it's path.

Do you ever get the feeling while waiting for some person to call you and pretend to be a caller from the UK for you to pretend that your a customer care representative in a pretend company with pretend rates and rules and policies that you are starting to be part of the furniture? It happens sometimes.

I signed the contract, I dreamed, and the HR girl laughed, it started as a giggle, then a laugh, then a hearty laugh, then an evil satanic laugh. She had demonic eyes, and purple skin, and her hair started changing to snakes. She grew claws from her green finger nails, and she grew great big red horns on her forehead and a red pointy tail, she looked like a diseased eggplant person, if not for the flames in the background. She laughs her evil laughs and the piece of paper changed to hadcuffs that was chained to a great metal ball half-buried in the burning steel floor I suddenly was standing on. She was laughing as she told me I had to pull it out of the steel, and I tried, it wouldn't budge, she still laughs and I tried again and again until the steel started to break like soil, and the steel ball broke from the steel soil and rose twenty feet into the air and fell on me. And she laughs some more as I twitched dying under the ball.

Now I have to deal with pre-employment paperwork. Bring it on.

 
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