Tag Archives: fluorescent lights

Fluorescent Hell

I sit in an fluorescent lit cubical, the environment around me ranges from deathly quiet, to screaming matches and near punch ups. Everything feels so sterile, white and lit up that you feel dirty just sitting at your desk. My take away coffee cup in its black paper and plastic lid stands out on the highly polished desk and I find I have to hide it behind the dark grey phone so it doesn’t look like an American in a Hawaiian shirt in the middle of Afghanistan.

I plug my head phones in and put on some tunes, “We can make the world stop” plays. I sit back and look around. It seems like the world has been turned down, yet made more thrilling and exciting. The morbidly obese fat bloke and the morbidly obese fat chick that are in the cubical next to me who are trying to work together somehow seem hilarious in an extreme sports way as they fight over space to get to the keyboard. Their largeness which hangs over the edges of their oversized chairs clash in their battle for keyboard space supremacy.

The track changes and pumping 1 hour set of “Trance Effects (live sessions @ TBS Radio 22.12.2008)”. I feel shivers as I want to start an office chair race, a dual to demonstrate that I still exist in this world. Something that can make me feel alive instead of this lump of flesh whose sole purpose is to type at a keyboard while being slowly ground into the grave by ultra-white high energy photons emitted from the buzzing of the fluorescent lights and twin screens displaying the dull technical documents that I’m writing.

There is so much more to existence than this. This is bull shit. I should go surfing, rally driving, skydiving, motor gliding, or even a ride down a flight of stairs from the top of the building is a human sized bubble ball.

I see the coffee cup which still hides behind the phone and it reminds me that I must work; secretly telling me “4.2 cents a second”, that is what someone is paying for my dying ass. Stop your dreaming and get back to work it says with it un-emotional gaze. I am a whore and my pimp will give me enough to stop me from looking for the greener grass.

FU coffee cup

At least while the music plays, the world seems a little more colourful. I type on closer and closer towards my fluorescent grave. One day I will make a difference and do something that has meaning … one day.