Its not me, its you.

Sometimes, when I reflect back on everything that has happened in the last year, I frequently ask myself if I really had no blame in any of the things that went wrong.

How sure am I that my work was really good? Is it possible for me to guarantee that I was truly blameless in the events that transpired? While I had no control over the root cause of the problem, I did have some measure of control over the events that happened after. Did I really, to the best of my abilities, do my best to ensure that there were no flaws at which management could pick on?

I’ve stopped communicating with them because they don't want to listen to my ideas or explanations. I mean, just because something sounds really good on paper doesn't mean that it will work just as well in reality. Could my refusal to open communication lines with them be the reason why I always find myself in situations that are terribly suffocating and demoralising? Perhaps, it’s my own stubborn manner that helps lay the foundations for the situations that could be avoided.

They’re not entirely blameless in this either though. They’ve been unfair and quick to assign blame and guilt in matters that blossomed from their own actions. While money is brought in with good materials, money is also brought in from good exposure and being willing to promote the magazine. If its suffered six years’ worth of neglect, then I cant possibly be the reason why the magazine isn’t entirely profitable. How is it that I am the sole reason why the magazine has been operating at a loss for six years? Six years ago, I was in school, being a pain and attempting to figure out Additional Math.

I’ve endured humiliation, threats and insults at the hand of a nasty old man who pretends to be understanding where there are several pairs of eyes to claim witness. Inside his office, he’s lashed out at me, calling me unkind names and claiming that I am a dispensable employee, who isn’t resourceful enough to make the magazine work. In reality, I’m the one that's brought some big stories to the table. I’m the one who’s brought nearly 500 pages to the table since I was first hired. No one taught me how to do anything. I just did it.

And yet, here we are today. I’m still sitting at a desk where my biggest achievement to date is the fact that no one has let my sorry ass go in favour of a cheaper puppet who will do exactly as asked. But for how long will this last?

Now that is the real question. ☺

T-E-R-R-I-F-I-E-D.

It was my turn to get screwed over on Friday by my boss's eldest, hereafter known as Tony Two-Face.

Everything that I proposed in the yearly editorial meeting was flung out the window, while Fruitcake, who refused to attend the meeting, demanded that the yearly media kit be arranged according to his liking. So once again, I was on the receiving end, caught off guard and wondering when I mentioned that this format was acceptable.

Do my ideas count for nothing?

It really peeves me because barely three weeks ago, Fruitcake essentially asked me to man up and be a contributor who is passionate about the magazine. He told me not be "an order-taker". What strikes me as stupid is that when I do step up to the plate to pick a format that flows, I am subtly told to step down and shut up and to not bother trying.

What do they want me to be? Do they want me to be passionate about making this work? Or are they merely attempting to attach strings on me so that I follow every command and whim?

Anyways, on Friday, Tony Two-Face got Fruitcake involved in an editorial disagreement...and I feel terrified of stepping into the office again. Everytime I think about what I must face this week, I find it hard to breathe and I feel that perhaps its better if I just resign now. It is within Fruitcake's office that I have tolerated his insults and his threats. I have tolerated his stupidity and his biased behaviour. I have tolerated his name-calling and his refusal to listen to my ideas and explanations. Not once have I ever defended myself and yet, he never seems to stop.

I feel that if he insults me one more time after Friday's little incident, I am going to put him in his place. I am going to be firm and stand my ground and I am going to politely ask him to check himself before contradicting his own arguments.

But then again, at what expense does my defense come attached to?

And then I have to ask myself a million dollar question: Is it really worth telling Fruitcake off for ten minutes of satisfaction?

Sigh.

*~I'm empty, lonely, and accused
Accused without a word
My fingernails are chipping down
From clawing in the dirt
I'm so lost, lost and confused
I threw it all away
How can I be beautiful
When I am so afraid~*

Rain and good music combined = WHOO!

Its been a very long time since I looked for some great music to unwind to. I've had the same songs for over a year, with one or two fresh purchases, but overall, its been a slow year. Sometimes, I feel work saps so much of my energy that I just cant bring myself to sift slowly through the crap for something jaw-dropping.

Today being a lazy Sunday, I found enough energy and time to really sift and I found some wonderful music. WHY do I always find such awesome bands long after they've dropped off the radar or have disbanded? Its so unfortunate.

My current new music obsession is Mad with Gravity. I LOVE THEM. Again, note my luck. They disbanded six years ago after one consistently good album. Its a shame really.

Anyways, back to music sifting.

Prisoner of Words (Unsaid)

I'm a prisoner of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings locked away in my head
I trap myself further every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak but I stop and stay silent
And now I've made my own hard bed
Inside a prison of words unsaid

I am a P.O.W.
Not a prisoner of war
A prisoner of words
Like a soldier
I'm a fighter
Yet only a puppet

Mostly I only say what you want to hear
Could you take it if I came clear?
Or would you rather see me
Stoned on a drug of complacency and compromise
M.I.A.
I guess that's what I am
Scraping this cold earth
For a piece of myself
For peace in myself

It'd be easier if you put me in jail
If you locked me away, I'd have someone to blame
But these bars of steel are of my making
They surround my mind and have me shaking
My hands are cuffed behind my back

I'm a prisoner of the worst kind, in fact
A prisoner of compromise
A prisoner of compassion
A prisoner of kindness
A prisoner of expectation
A prisoner of my youth
Run too fast to be old
I've forgotten what I was told
Ain't I a sight to behold?

A prisoner of age dying to be young
To my head is my hand with a gun
And it's cold and it's hard
Cause there's nowhere to run
When you've caged yourself by holding your tongue

I'm a prisoner of words unsaid
Just lonely feelings locked away in my head
It's like solitary confinement every time I stay quiet
I should start to speak but I stop and stay silent
And now I've made my own hard bed
Inside a prison of words unsaid

*~Alicia Keys, Def Poetry Jam*~

Forgetting the pen

I went for an editing test today. Besides meeting this totally freaky and over-enthusiastic woman, it went well. I think its very shameful because I had forgotten how to hold a pen. This is what happens when you're stuck to the computer all day long and you use a keyboard to express yourself. :)

My handwriting was so horrible and I really do pity the person who has to vet through my work. He will need patience and a magnifying glass. However, I think I did pretty decently and can only keep my fingers crossed at this point of time.

:)

My only mission for this weekend is to relax and to catch up on sleep, while I watch DVDs and consume copious amounts of ice cold Coke.

JOY.

The last Secret I'm wasting on you

Taken off Postsecret.

*~Sickened in the sun
You dare tell me you love me
But you held me down and screamed you wanted me to die~*

Meeellllttttiiiinnnngggg

Its been an absolutely horrible week at work and I've never done so much paper pushing in just one damn day!



Just look at this....And this was only one side of my desk yesterday.



This was my desk after almost seven hours.

96 pages of editing and arranging. After completing those, I filed it all away for corrections and new uploads.

More work coming my way next week.

Boo.