I am compelled by the fact that common-room has emerged to become a dwelling to which the sun does not shine. In all respects, this phenomenon is extremely unsanitary... to the say the least.

Nonetheless, this life-less state of no visible change... or perhaps this invisible change of sorts is most compelling. I'm getting frank commentaries that I look more dreary and dreamy by the day from colleagues... in all due respect, my dream-like everylife sure makes me want to step OUTSIDE and take a fresh breath of Tokyo smog... perhaps in coughing more... I can feel this physical stimulation. (actually, this is a horrible joke)

But getting back, I'm personally NOT paying my dues right now for later redemption. In many ways, toiling through the daily drudgery -- of sorts -- and enjoying every moment of it... is nothing other than Japanese masochism in action. I conflict myself here, as I enjoy what I do -- to some extent -- but hating the long hours. Unfortunately, there's no medium to which I can find perfect harmony... as people in general -- at the broadest spectrum -- find difficulty.

Actually, this talk is boring me... so I should probably quit. My mindless meanderings are taking me elsewhere. BUT (as I contradict myself again) the main thrust of this so-called meditative confession of sorts -- bearing in mind St. Augustine -- is that I'm enjoying this now... but this salary-man seikatsu is something else. My old professor -- whom we discussed literature and the "principle of pleasure" of sorts -- laughed over the fact that I chose this well-beaten path. It all seems to be full of contradictions and paradoxes.

The excitement... I realize... seem to be sifting through these complications like a cigarrette filter. No cigarrette tastes better than the ones that are well-smoked and almost down to the butt.

And yet... I didn't inhale. I was just puffing smoke. ;P

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All of the work aside, I'm going home. It's a place with plenty of sunshine. :)