In the workplace, one is quick to point at the incapability of other team mates. Many times, one gets subjected to the petri-dish-and-micro-scope trials that the work place is wont to conduct. Suddenly, you grow smaller. Suddenly, everyone is silent. Suddenly, everyone is pointing fingers.


Then again, there is a thin line between owning up and not being sorry. One must own up to mistakes. One must take responsibility.

I wish I could be consistent and say that yes, I have fucked up at work so many times that I have become the bad apple in the basket. But because the people in this country are always caught between a rock and a hard place (specifically in the context of being caught between one’s passions and the work that pays the bills), they say one has to suck it up.

I have met people who easily throw this line around like confetti. "Suck it up."

I have long resented their selfish disdain for those who, in this respect, do not have it easy. It’s simple to say something one does not have to go through, after all. They do not feel the hurt that one feels when seeing something one cannot have.

Accept it. It's never going to happen.

Accept the denial of oneself, then -- Are you fucking kidding me? Suicide is a synonym for that, in case you didn’t realize.

For a system that requires empathy, it sure is unapologetic for what it does to its people. Nor is it, well, sensitive.

The days since the camp have been a struggle. The kind where you know you are dreaming and cannot run as fast as you need to, or would like to.

What I really want to say is: my gasoline tank has a hole in it. I am perpetually running on the last dregs of what little fuel I can keep. So save the finger-pointing; rest assured that I will save myself and willingly offer my absence to you.

And no. Your insensitive suggestions are unacceptable to me. I will not be sorry. I cannot, and will not accept that. I will choose.