I work with monsters

So we got this photo. And then everyone started talking about it. Out IT guy is the one that usually receives pictures that reporters send to the direct phone line where we usually get photos of such things — we get them everyday: fires, car accidents, suicide attempts, drugs and liquor, etc … there always has to be something.

So today the IT guy starts talking about the guy in the picture very casually. “Today we’ve got an awesome one!” he said to my colleague and I as we were passing by his desk to get  to the chocolate cake that was on the  table at the end of the office .. (don’t ask, we always have food to share in the office, and yes it’s an insignificant detail but kaifi, i had bad chocolate cake, now get over it) So we’re passing by there … and then he goes, “The man got himself free plastic surgery!”

A man was fixing a flat tire. And was hit by a truck. His face disappeared. It is gone. Take a look at his face. I can see a  trace of a mouth. I’m not sure of it’s (it was) actually his mouth. But yeah … that’s a man who is now dead (I think? I don’t want to know!) and he’s dead, and we get to publish a very very short and brief news story about him. And my colleagues get to talk about his mutilated face as if it were a joke. A circus. Anywho … Brace yourself and take a look…

You know you could do better

I’m having difficulty deciding what I want to do. No matter what time I sleep, I wake up shortly after five in the morning. It sucks.

I lie in bed for over one whole our trying to decide whether I should get up or whether I should sleep some more, and the latter is very hard to achieve! Sleep used to come to me so easily. All I had to do was lie in bed and think of something nice and sweet, and off I’ll go, deep into sleep.

Now this seems to be impossible. And what sucks is I don’t know if I should talk about it. I feel like I want to fast forward everything in my life and see where I will be, not in the cliche ten years but maybe in  two or just one year. 

I’m constantly disappointed in people, friends and family and colleagues and everyone, it’s annoying how I keep setting high expectations, ie keep disappointing myself more and more.

I lost my ability to wriite anything. I don’t know if I should be working at the newspaper anymore. I blame it on things that happened at work, at how people come and leave every other month and how they don’t know how to criticize a stupid piece of writing. But I shouldn’t blame it on that. I always took my writing as something personal, why does it have to effected by this shit?

Every morning I wake up and promise myself that this will be my new beginning, that from now on I’ll forget all the crap i’ve done and start anew, and every morning I get disappointed.