It is an unfortunate fact that taking a Jeepney to get to your destination brings with the sentimental journey a package of lingering realizations;too many, in fact, that a semicolon was necessary to add to this already long sentence a bulletin to usher you to my second paragraph.
Save for Thursday nights when i take a cab to get to my class in UP, I usually join the mob of sweating laborers and struggling yuppies commute to lowly Cubao from Eastwood City. The setting is interestingly egalitarian: the educated and the tired construction worker seated next to each other, indifferent to a wave of exhausted breathing. But I find it rather unusual that it is during this time of discomfort that i manage to pause and contemplate on the day's events. I feel contained in a moving piece of metal that absorbs not only the exhumed heat of the earth but also the string of unwanted incidents that transpired in the office. I go through the process of recalling them from memory and then rationalizing each mistake or misjudgment along the glorious thumping of the speaker box under my seat---the jolt in my butt signaling to end my exaggerated wanderings.
I have been working in Eastwood City for a Research and Development Facility of a Japanese company for almost two years now. The excitement grows as the days crawl to my second year in the office; the day i plan to resign. Unfortunately, i did not like my job in this Company, and i cannot be more honest than that. However, i cannot discount the many lessons i learned that merit sincere gratefulness from my part.
I'm writing this because tonight i did not ride a jeepney on my way home. What i wrote in the previous paragraph was constructed in my memory while i was comfortably sitting inside a taxi. I feel contained in a moving piece of metal that absorbs not only the exhumed heat of my body but also the string of unwanted incidents that transpired in the office in the last two years. I go through the process of recalling them from memory and then rationalizing each mistake or misjudgment along the glorious thumping of the poorly upholstered seat--the jolt in my butt signaling to end my exaggerated and redundant wanderings.
Save for Thursday nights when i take a cab to get to my class in UP, I usually join the mob of sweating laborers and struggling yuppies commute to lowly Cubao from Eastwood City. The setting is interestingly egalitarian: the educated and the tired construction worker seated next to each other, indifferent to a wave of exhausted breathing. But I find it rather unusual that it is during this time of discomfort that i manage to pause and contemplate on the day's events. I feel contained in a moving piece of metal that absorbs not only the exhumed heat of the earth but also the string of unwanted incidents that transpired in the office. I go through the process of recalling them from memory and then rationalizing each mistake or misjudgment along the glorious thumping of the speaker box under my seat---the jolt in my butt signaling to end my exaggerated wanderings.
I have been working in Eastwood City for a Research and Development Facility of a Japanese company for almost two years now. The excitement grows as the days crawl to my second year in the office; the day i plan to resign. Unfortunately, i did not like my job in this Company, and i cannot be more honest than that. However, i cannot discount the many lessons i learned that merit sincere gratefulness from my part.
I'm writing this because tonight i did not ride a jeepney on my way home. What i wrote in the previous paragraph was constructed in my memory while i was comfortably sitting inside a taxi. I feel contained in a moving piece of metal that absorbs not only the exhumed heat of my body but also the string of unwanted incidents that transpired in the office in the last two years. I go through the process of recalling them from memory and then rationalizing each mistake or misjudgment along the glorious thumping of the poorly upholstered seat--the jolt in my butt signaling to end my exaggerated and redundant wanderings.
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