When the day begins I insert the earpiece into my head,
like some serial bus into my soul.
I sit immobile in my dirty fabric covered chair,
pieces of grey and black tape cover the arms.
As I log into my phone and click all the icons to begin,
I feel an oppressive sleepiness roll over my consciousness,
Like some cereberal congestion reducing the flow of thought.
It's time for 9 hours of coma with voices in my ears.
It feels Like inhaling nitrous oxide after a double espresso,
I never truly sleep, I never truly relax, just exist
in a dull state of non-specific pain and jittery nerves.
There are nightmares of oppression, and confusion.
Never finding those dreams of sex, waffles, and crispy bacon.
Never reaching the nirvana of a Wafflehouse,
where the waitresses dress trashy and call me "Honey".
My monitors is my field of labor for the day,
a luminous blue glow that never leaves my eyes,
The only birds in my field are the pop-up ads on explorer,
Orbitz like the yellow finch, and Amex like the bluejay.
Purgatory: A place of suffering and torment with an unknown duration. In Roman Catholic Theology-the place where the dead are purified from their sins.
By Rage Against The Machine