10 Apr '072 min read

I hate the smell of newspapers in the morning

<rant>

Every morning, the same events occur. I stumble out the door, some 60’s rock or heavy EBM keeping my heart beating yet another unit of time, feeling more and more in control of my body as the caffeine kicks in, some primal instinct points my compass to work. This part I enjoy, but then, 5 minutes later when I arrive at the train station things start falling apart.

Suddenly there’s an army of mindless ghouls attacking me from every angle. Completely surrounded, each and every one of them with their own unique arsenal, determined to score by forcing a paper into one of my hands, preferably both.

In the beginning I politely turned them down, but as the days went, and they kept attacking me I started to feel a dark and frightening anger climbing my back. The days of blindly ignoring the vultures had to give way for some bone-hard action.

“Why don’t you just leave your papers on the ground like you used to? Stop ruining my morning!”

Needless to say, my pathetic attempt didn’t solve anything, 10 more meters and another ghoul tries his luck. I breathe, in and out, silently trying to sooth myself, hearing some internal voice whispering,

“They’re just fellow seekers, humping the fortune-train in hope of staying afloat for yet another month, it’s not their fault, they too are victims of some evil corporate cash cropper pulling the strings.”

I get on the train, open a book, travel to another reality, trying to ignore the fact that the same events will once again occur when disembarking the train 20 minutes later.

</rant>