A paper with your name on it
number of years spent preparing
for where you’ll work
not to make you understand yourself better
or sharpen the skills you deem worth

Employee in the chain of productivity
first in line gets to smirk

You’ve made it
stepped over your peers
overcame the competition
now you order everyone around
make them toil for your gain
last to grab gets to beg

Piles of paper, endless texts
all in theory, nothing effects
press the buttons, stare at screen
watch where your friends have been
bills to buy junk
homes for deals sunk
pay the banks till your dying day

A paper with no name on it
life shouldn’t be to find your fit
a wager then to pause the flow
you’ll only know if you let go


Why I quit

1) The coffee was bad
2) Junior colleagues addressed their seniors by “sir”
3) Another out-sourcing success story, i.e. working for peanuts
4) No free meals
5) Annoying team members
6) Cranky AC
7) No proper parking facilities
8) Too far from where I live
9) Overall dissatisfaction
10) Not enough exercise for my grey cells
11) It felt like a chore
12) Today’s the 7th
13) Do what you love

♡ + O = :-P

Love is nothing. At its most basic principle it is an idea. An idea, like god and peace, and fear and equality. An idea that is infused into our minds from the moment we grasp who our parents are. It is through their care or the lack thereof that love as the “tender feeling” it has been described as becomes part of our existence. In actual truth, it denotes a range of human emotions and feelings that could otherwise be hard to categorize. Care, empathy, desire, jealousy, kindness, affection, preference, loyalty, sensitivity, belief, irrationality, etc.

Love in itself is just a word. Just like every word that ever existed. It serves a purpose, it has a beginning, and it might probably have an end somewhere down the line. It is not infinite. There was a particular moment in time when somebody decided to pen those alphabets together. As for its authenticity there is no proof other than the outwardly signs it manifests, which in no way serve as plausible evidence for its occurrence. Like they say, you have to feel to believe.

Love is dangerous, just like any other idea the human mind has brought forth. In extremes, it can cause physical and mental harm, so it shouldn’t be taken lightly. We are prone to envision love as a sort of boon to mankind, as it arouses in us images of cohabitation and mutual benefit. This is how we put ourselves at risk of becoming pawns in a bigger game where there are no rules, only motives and consequences. Just as there is love which is benevolent, forbearing, empathetic and whole, there is also love which is manipulative, twisted, unrelinquishing and vile.

Love thrives on fantasy and lack of reason. In fact, it defies all reason. And all though that’s one of the main arguments its proponents put forth, there is no amount of rationality that could make them question its validity. So like every other exaggerated aspect of sentient life it is here to stay. Not because it is necessary, or undeniably accurate, but because it makes us feel better of ourselves. It makes us feel sophisticated and important. It makes us crave purer and higher levels of intimacy. The ultimate union with the divine. Oneness with all life in a dimension that supersedes all form and understanding. Or in other words, nothing.