readjustments.

need some mental readjustments. been blahing on women(and 1 girl) for too many posts, so i shut up now on that and write about other things.

like work.

work is crap. actually my job is pretty fun, we build visuals, as in we make the clients' presentation presentable by putting together a couple of pricey audio visual equipment. we design and built av (not adult video, but that is good too) systems for clients like fujixerox, oracle, mtv, etc etc. by and large, the work is bloody fun. requires many late nights and early mornings too, but when you're in the mood, the morning comes pretty quick.

the people are not so fun.

i just came back from the exhibition. so many many people i know and don't wanna know there. we're the new kid on the block, 4 years old, this industry is unique; it's so small and cannibalistic that everyone came from somewhere else within the industry. i.e. much poaching. i myself came from another larger outfit. so there's loads of finger pointing, tongue-wagging and crap-shitting by everyone.

i stand guilty too.

sometimes its hard to take shit lying down and like what chris one of my colleagues said, (and himself also a former bigwig of another much much much larger outfit) i know what are the wrong buttons to press in others and i must, diedie must press them. i dun disagree. i found out after 5 odd years in the industry that i actually have a foul temper and a mean streak. not a good thing. who could boast of a resignation highlighted by slamming the table on the boss?

oh god. i changed quite a bit from my patrician days.

anyway had some time to write while surveying a government project that we are currently undertaking, and reworked the old poem in the previous post. methinks this is better, what say you?

***

Luck.

Newspaper lady, a stall by the road,
hawking cigarettes under the table,
making wedding plans.

Just opposite, an anonymous accident.
Everyone stops to gawk, take numbers,
a long queue is expected at the lotteries tonight.

Where a twenty-four year old girl mans the booth,
testing surnames with her name.
Someday a winner will come to claim her hand,
with a smile.

There is one today; A Mr. So and so
with the bright eyes and the paid entourage.
He has the winning ticket in hand and
a suitable girl in mind.
He wonders:
"Will I be lucky tonight?"

***

listening to: random radio i think i remember hearing hootie and the blowfish.
reading: simic, walking the black cat - no one, and i mean no one can hallucinate as well as simic. brilliant.

p.s. the imagery of the fat woman with the wedding plans comes from simic's "Roach Motel": "...And a fat woman with a husky voice./She drinks gin of a bottle,/sways her hips to the radio,/Has wedding plans." of course, his' is way better, i must say.