when the PLAY gets out of hand, you dont know what I'll become.
working at the call centre doing government surveys,i've come to see many facets of society. those who slog day and night to earn big bucks, like a professor from a local Uni, who still returns to his office after dinner time.. oh man, where is the love? and I have witnessed the vulnerability of society, innocent young children - though as big as secondary school - naiively revealing all their family particulars to me, a complete stranger whom they have failed to verify my identity with. I'm exceptionally horrified with how these young children so simply reply "okay", to my request for them to complete the _______ survey which i am conducting. My heart squirms, whenever they accede to my request in the absence of their parents, for the imminent risks of society infiltrates into my frame of mind. Their parents aint home, i know your household details and salary, so what next? I can appoach your home now. Can you sense the lurking pessimism of society?
Why do jokes go out of hand? is there a thing called limit? Sometimes it really makes me ponder whether i indeed make a mockery of myself, or that I am simply humorous to hang out with... though i doubt any. For a completely different set of jokes set in in my many different stages of life? Since primary school, yea, so many different.. ahem.. versions of my name - ANNA -, and then in secondary for my chinese pronounciation that seriously couldnt make it, and then the big hooha that dragged on for 4 years over someone and then in JC and now, Im so innocently enmeshed into the web of... 'pseudo' tales my colleagues have so creatively woven, to connect me with everyone who might have a nickname in the office.
Somebody asked me recently what do I do when i get disturbed, and guess what I replied? I simply smile it off. Yes I do that, if you are my friend. and if you KNOW me, you would have tasted my Ultimate Diao, if you were my most precious friends to hurt me.
I know now, this makes me so fatigued, pretending Im fine with it all, anyway, just a prop for their entertainment right? But i seriously dont know how to cope with the same old repetitive story day after day after day after day after day anymore. One story that goes into greater detail with every day.
Dont. Dont make me turn nasty. Dont make me start shunning away.
I know what YOU are doing. I know why you did it for. You seem to be a visible stalker. Oh please, just go away.
Dad is forgetting things.
I want mum to know that I too, am worried.
Dear Guanyi is returning to his china hometown soon. Greeny Gang, we got to send him off together. Its a reluctant feeling.
No comments:
Post a Comment