1 Mainstream Media

Dinner was made by Mom today since Dad had this kind of promotion that I barely understood as a kid back then. I knew he would be going home a little late again. Little me, having bed hair and still in my pjs was drawing something for Dad when he comes home. Just a simple stick-man drawing of him, me and mom congratulating him. I still remember how I spelled the word "Congratulations" as 'Congrachulassons!' Mom was busy making spaghetti thats why I never got to ask her what was the correct spelling of the said word. I was swinging my short stubby legs as I was sitting so highly in those stool chairs and colouring my drawing using my crayons that I got from aunt Sherry. She's nice and always gives me cool presents in special holidays. I was finally done colouring all the stick-man's pants and dress and the only thing missing was the classic grass lands and a nature background. I tried to find my green crayon but with all the splayed and crayons a mess, for sure it already rolled fell from the counter and I didn't notice it. I slowly went down off the high stool and crawled to see if it was under any tables. Its long gone rolled off somewhere now. I got on all fours and looked under the sofa if it was there. My green crayola was there alright. I tried grabbing for it but my arms were too short for it. I stood up again and the TV was playing some news that there was a new killer on the killing spree. But the rates were too high for it to be just one human only. Like a group, maybe. But I didn't bother pitching in any longer, I was a child back then and couldn't understand anything on the TV if it wasn't about Fluffee. It was my favourite kid's show back then. I stumbled my way around to grandpa's cane that was given to dad the last time they met. I took it and went back to the same spot I was in close under the sofa. I went on all fours again and use the rickety crane to actually be able to get my green crayon. I scraped it for a few seconds until it finally came rolling outside. I smiled to myself so proudly, getting something out of my reach without Mommy's help. Oh Daddy would too, be proud. I would tell him, once he comes home that is. I held the green crayon with my left hand and went back to put grandpa's cane where I got it from. I got back from my high seated stool and went back in colouring my art piece. I coloured with the Im-drawing-using-my-whole-hand manner. God, I was so young back then. What happened now?

I took seated on my office desk. I was tired and numb living my life out seating in this office desk just for the salary. Its like being a slave but with more modernized steps. With more modernized steps I mean, wherein its agreeable to be a slave for the paper since people actually need it. So somehow we're all agreeing but suffering at the same time. Its like that one word people use- what was it? Ironic. Yeah that one. I've been so gone to the point wherein where I work, the real me is not there anymore. Its just gone automatic to work and live. I'm not the one who's controlling my body anymore, its just something else. A good force, maybe? The holy spirit? Oh god- Don't put religious things in this- We're having an existensial crisis and you put something fictional in this? It's not that its fictional or anything- I dunno, maybe I'm just an atheist? I still pray or whatever- I don't know why I still do that. My dead eyes glued to the screen filled with numbers piling up, and with my fingers typing the commands away. This is not me anymore, help. This is not me anymore, help. This is not me anymore, help. THIS IS NOT ME ANYMORE HELP. THIS IS NOT ME ANYMORE HELL THIS IS NOT ME ANYMORE HELP THIS IS NOT ME ANYMORE HELP- I snap back to living and realizing that I wasn't typing the correct things anymore. I quickly deleted everything I've typed so mysteriosuly and shook my head to wake my brain up. My eyes were starting to ache like hell and like what humans do, I blinked my eyes open and shut repeteadly and fondled them carefully to also wake up my eyes. Is it me, or are they starting to be blurry? Jeez, I need to have my eyes check just because of this computer work? I rubbed my two fingers in the bridge of my nose to repress the migraine that keeps nudging on. Blinked one more time to get my eyes to work again. I sighed, and stretched my sore arms with my back cracking, I stood up to get some coffee and decided that the extra leg work could do the job.