For a long period of time did not write something about yourself, first, life is not worth so much wonderful writing, the other is nothing mood, and he can not calm down, my mind quite a mess, do not know why, time on the consumption passed, but felt he had been next to go, people want to have to pull me out, but I do not know exactly what your heart wants is, I can not answer this question I really want to do, such as .
I changed three jobs a year, three completely detached of work, there is not the slightest relationship between my school and professional work, I still do odd jobs, wages are still a probationary period, still thinking about leaving, not do not want to sink down, perhaps others it seems this is an impetuous, in fact, I was confused, there is no sense of belonging. There was interviewing me, told me that you do not have career plans, and I can tell from your resume, it is hard for a long time to do so in a company. I agree with his views, but I did not do anything, sometimes I am not my own master.
In fact, the work itself is not fun, if you find pleasure from the work which, in fact, that it's not a real job. Sometimes I feel myself and others do not, how can I mix with these guys, and how I would complicit group of people, but the facts tell you is that you're with them, you're just like them who ! We eighty-nine hours a day without reservation to the boss, as if naked prostitute clothes, fancy torn, as long as the last guests like money, cool and uncomfortable is not the most critical, so it is between us image! Some people sell is wisdom, eloquence, ability, technology, and we are selling are time and sweat.
Do not want to explain what I was doing, but it can be understood: that someone else was finished feces, I went to his backside; others want to spit, I went to the holding spittoon; Or as TF said, people go to bed, I stood at the bedside waiting for the delivery of condoms. Yes, in this wonderful place, and I was doing such a noble thing, that one day I suddenly thought of a movie, "Flew Over the Cuckoo," I now feel like the movie, I do not know if I'm crazy, or they're all crazy, crazy anyway, people do not feel crazy, only thing is, we are thinking about leaving, because we do not recognize myself crazy!
We are all dead, every day as long as the shell is like here, my soul would not be here defiled. At least three times a day or more kinds of people criticize, I spent two disposable cups to drink water, that I was wasting. Here the poor are not even a pen, a pen going to apply, ask a lot of people, actually want to come back to a refill. I have no seats and computers, the kind who is out, who I sat position, with whose computer, people say I have never had a computer, I want more. Everyone is preoccupied, the boss does not believe the staff, the staff trying to cheat the boss, everyone pretend to be busy, very proudly Daomao on the surface, secretly try to do some sly things. I would rather go out to run, sit wind off, carrying things out of the coolies, I feel much better than staying in a lunatic asylum, even camped.
Too many shameful things, and now think are not worth mentioning, though very funny, but still leave them the last little dignity it. I have worked in the micro letter wrote: "Some things never have too many expectations, too difficult to inner peace, but if you learn to face disappointment, perhaps feel better."
God, the devil, hell, heaven, madhouse!
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