I know honey! Time is not straight but cyclic. Thus, we are crashing and transforming in an endless routine. And after Friday, it’s always coming Monday. I wish, but I cannot jump from Friday to Friday. Ah, sacrificing my life for the sick & devilish system of modern working life! Office stuffs, office language, office style, office hours, office works, office walls.. Ten minute non stop repetition of a word is a kind of detoxing from meaning. Now, stop grumbling, OFFICE is just the combination of letters, nothing more. Take a deep breath, order a dark coffee, find a slow tune and be ready. It is a new day in the old system!
Good morning to all Mondays’ sick!
“Marco enters a city; he sees someone in a square living a life or an instant that could be his; he could now be in that man’s place, if he had stopped in time, long ago; or if, long ago, at a crossroads, instead of taking one road he had taken the opposite one, and after long wandering he had come to be in the place of that man in the square. By now, from that real or hypothetical past of his, he is excluded; he cannot stop; he must go on to another city, where another of his pasts awaits him, or something perhaps that had been a possible future of his and is now someone else’s present. Futures not achieved are only branches of the past: dead branches.” Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities