For the last 2 months I have been trying pointlessly to put some words on paper. Think I have finally reached my writers block.

I do find it weird and particularly frustrating, especially that I haven’t felt like this since the majestic days spent in the beautiful advertising industry; where everything was cool and we were cool, making every tiny hipsterish student mind jealous.

Liked it or not, we where the trend setters, the example every kid had to follow. We had scarfs and colourful clothes and no one could argue with us. We had big budgets to make really short stupid “movies” with the most imbecile life advise ever – you want to improve your life? Use this detergent, it’s exactly like any other detergent, but it has a better TV ad and well… we made it and we say so. Not to mention, it will definitely make your neighbour that you have a crush on, fall for you like the damn walls of Jericho. And yes, just because of that dandelion perfume.

Not being able to share a coherent writing threw me back pretty aggressively to an era I was hopping to just remember fondly. Like with any ex-boyfriend. You wanna keep the good parts, but when ever you think of him…good lord…glad it fucking finally ended! No offence…I did like you all. Up to a point. I swear.

Now that I’m writing without having any idea where i will take this text’s life too, I do start smiling at the idea of work as a relationship.

A 21st century love story.

A story between the lost creature searching for a reason of being and that porpoise giving trickster element we all so lovingly call Job.

I do find it baffling how, on a basic level, we use the same system of actions but changed the paradigm.
Once upon a time it was “come into this world, grow up into a fine human being, get married, have kids, die happy terrorizing others” where Job was just a means to an end, an element of support and help in reaching your goal. Now it’s “come into this world, grow up into a fine human being, get a job, get a promotion, get a raise, work until you retire, die happy terrorizing others” where human interaraction is just a means to an end. A means to have your imagine into society better established.

…the hopes that the preachers of the third industrial revolution have and how they will be broken…

Personally i divorced after 11 years of marriage with advertising. Still trying to recover from it by playing like a whore with other equally fucked up “industry”.

The difference between then and now is that i come and go when ever the industry calls; and it follows me everywhere. And i do have a better office view, truth be told.

With all it’s perks, this nomad work environment makes me wonder…does my job smokes after it fucks me?

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