Sitting here in this pointless office, I wander in my mind to different places, different times, different worlds. Somehow it feels like the world is trying to erase my ambition, creativity and ability to touch other people. I dont know what to do with myself anymore, it is frustrating to not think that you are a machine, typing and pressing gray buttons to the rhythm of the ticking clock.
Some low whispered empty conversations, annoying mechanical phone rings, the night is falling down so fast you cant even see it coming. The windows are so dark you cannot feel the real difference between day and night, its all the same here, all the same.
A girl approaches me, bends a little on my desk, smiling. She says shes from Human Resources, wants to interview me about the workers conditions. I nod as I log off my user and detach off the keyboard. She leads me into a small room, round table, two chairs and a little laptop sitting quietly, humming to itself.
She asks me about my work, my tasks, responsibilities and vision. I reply, noticing her hand slowly crawling towards mine. The paycheck, the bonuses, her fingers on my skin, the breaks, the inter relationships, her lips against my neck, the attitude of the management, the annual reports, her tongue in my ear, the neon lighting, the softness of hands.
She takes her shirt off, takes my pants off; I close my eyes and listen to the clock's tick, just as if Im typing on my keyboard. Theres no going back now. From here on its a one way street, a path I never wanted to explore. She is on me now, kissing passionately, praying in my ear, saying my name, moaning.
I sit in my car, hands on wheel. Engine turned on. Murmuring. Complaining on the weather. I shouldnt go home
I really shouldnt go home. Driving down through rain and smoke, a cigarette tucked between my fingers, eyes grow tired. Its not the time, I tell myself as her lips kiss mine, its not the time for dreaming. The traffic light turns green, pumping the gas, the cars are moving. Eyelids grow heavy, fingers on my chest, left palm against the back of my neck. The traffic light turns green, I pump the gas, the cars are moving. Its time to go. My eyes are asleep, the car is off the road, and I wonder what day it is.