too many people talking about nothing, silence is underappreciated, it seems.
thank god i can be myself for the next three days.
being at work is being stuck in a lucid dream, but it is the consequence of the choice that i made and i half willingly give up on myself while i'm there. embracing it is better for my well being i figured. for now.
besides, once i'm off the clock, i don't remember anyways. then it's just me.
and it suffocates me even having to think about what's appropriate and what's not to wear. especially when i like being a little indecent in my attire at all times.
"don't you think i understand? the hopeless dream of being. not seeming but being. conscious at every moment. vigilant. at the same time the chasm between what you are to others and to yourself. the feeling of vertigo and the constant desire to be at last be exposed. to be seen through, cut down, perhaps even annihilated. every tone of voice is a lie, every gesture a falsehood, every smile a grimace. commit suicide? oh no. that's ugly. you don't do that. but you can be immobile, you can fall silent. then at least you don't lie. you can close yourself in, shut yourself off. then you don't have to play roles, show any faces or make false gestures. you think... but you see, reality is bloody minded. your hideout isn't watertight. Life seeps in everything. you're forced to react. no one asks if it's real or unreal, if you're true or false... I think you should maintain playing this role until it's played out. until it's no longer interesting. then you can leave it. just as you bit by bit leave all your other roles." - Ingmar Bergman's Persona
