Now what. Eyes are tired. Laptop on my lap...
Coughing.
Unable to sleep.
Need room...
Freedom.
Wasting space on this page.
Anything a teacher would tell me not to do. You can't write a comma before "and", and I do it, because I have the "
poetic licence": who says you're the top expert on anything just because you're my teacher. That's how I always felt. Who gives you the right to judge me? To rank me?
Screw you all.
I can't sleep.
I... can't sleep.
I feel like skipping work. But my father will knock on my door to ask if anything is wrong. Not because he cares at all about how I'm doing. He just thinks that, unless I am dying, I should go to work. He's like that other mother ****er, the boss. If I am not dying, it means he didn't push me to the limit, so he has to whip me more.
**** them all.
What am I going to do to avoid work and my dad at once? I used to go to the park as a teenager or walk around my city, go to play video games or go to read books at a library. Yeah, I used to read books. Waste of time.
**** gaspar gomez and **** the ****ing diaz brokers. I bury those cockroaches. What did they ever do for us?!
I am not going to work (on time) tomorrow. I'll go late, if they want me.
I turned my alarm off, so, even my father comes to disturb me, I'll still have managed to sleep an extra hour.
That's why I so desperately wanted to make money. To be able to sleep normally, and wake up at 12.
Then I could quit my job and my dad wouldn't be able to come to bother me because I am not dying and I am not going to work.
I remember when I was at the hospital once, for some serious stuff, my dad told me "take it as a vacation". Like you can be on vacation only if you're dying basically. That's what I should tell that mother ****er if I see him dying.
That's what's given me this tremendous need to escape, to rebel: having around me a mother ****er like this guy who's always relentlessly pushed me to the limit, to get me to work more and more... obsessively, compulsively whipping me... "do more"... "you can do better"... "you could have done more"... "if you had done"... "you could have done"... "my friend's son has done"... "this guy has done"... "this other guy has achieved"... "look at my friend's children: they've worked non-stop ever since they were born"...
Certainly I know what hard work means... with this idiot in the house... and I even pushed myself, i've learned this obsession with hard work... but also at the same time... I want to tell myself what I need to do. It's enough pressure as it is: I can't stand other people telling what to do on top of all the pressure I already give myself.
That's why I told my boss to go pressure the slackers in his room, who are on coffee breaks all day long. But they got paper on their tables, right, so it looks like they're all busy.
I'm having to call 20 guys at the branches all day long... asking for work they didn't do, for documents they were required to send but didn't send. Today I had to call 3 people for their signatures were missing from the suspicious transaction reports they sent us. They typed their name, and didn't sign the box below their name, where it said "signature". I had the form modified just for the idiots. But the idiots were too lazy to read the boxes. So until today I had to call these guys and get them to send new envelopes with the same exact document only with their added signature. What a waste of work and time.
Today the boss allowed me to get faxes sent. So I got three faxes sent, with the morons' signatures.
These calls, interacting with all these lazy morons, gives me a lot of stress.
On top of this, my work does not get acknowledged. I'm having to listen to this guy calling me "privileged" because until today I wasn't behind.
It reminds me exactly of my father telling me "I could do more". He did that, relentlessly, since i was 8 years old. He bought extra exercises for me to do after school.
Eventually, by 14, I was sick of working extra, because he was never satisfied. I was close to being the best student in my class, but I felt like a slacker because he kept on telling me I could do more. I felt guilty. The best student, but he feels guilty. So at 14, or even a year earlier, I decided that I'd stop studying.
I am being called a slacker anyway, so why should I work? And it's almost like what might happen now even: "we're all behind"... I was
privileged... I'll show you what it means if I don't work. Go ahead and fail me.
If you fail to acknowledge my work, like my father did, I might as well stop working and make you regret your words. Ungrateful *******.