Thursday, March 31, 2011


My Japanese boss had relocated to the table beside me. To the right of me now sits hell, working hours meant inhaling his cigarette-flavored breath. If only I could kill myself.

In between relocation and his bad breath, is the greatest disturbance on earth, as he could now conveniently butt through my critical thinking times, gathering greatest universal forces of insanity converged in the minor intersection between us.

Seriously, this is hell.