I just got off from work a couple of hours ago. This thing that I'm doing is a short-term project as an airport guide, initially, we were supposed to just inform lost passengers and other people about the closure of the Budget Terminal and the migration of the low-cost carriers to Terminal 2. DASRIGHT, initially. But well, it is still more or less like this.
Really, there are not many things to complain about, only one or two inane coworkers who are rather harmless. For the record, I am not racist; I make racist remarks but I don't mean it and I don't criticize any race ruthlessly unless you're my friend and I know you well enough to do that. I am absolutely not arrogant nor egotistic (and not entirely humble), but I have morals and values. I hate to nag and be nagged at, to be ordered around, to do a stranger's bidding without obligations- and well, in a nutshell, one does not simply march up to me or the people around me and demand us to do something that you are supposed to do.
No, you do not simply think that just because we are temporary/ part-timers and we are stationed right outside your Customer Service counter, we have to be bossed around by you (the staff). You do not simply think it's of your benefit to take advantage of our services and tell us to stand nearer to your SERVICE counter. I am angry because not only is their attitude condescending, they made it personal because they thought I was rude.
I mean what I say, but I can't control what you think I said.
In other words, I sincerely feel sorry for your lack of compassion, lack of wisdom, lack of security, lack of knowledge, your present small-mindedness, and your overwhelming hypocrisy. I am also sincerely NOT sorry for your lack of compassion, lack of wisdom, lack of security, lack of knowledge, your pure stupidity, and your VERY OVERWHELMING HYPOCRISY. To this, I'm sorry for not feeling sorry for your office (sit-down-and-twiddle-your-thumbs) job. I really understand how TOUGH it must be for many different passengers of many diverse nationalities to go to your Customer Service counter to ask for directions to Gong Cha and the nearest toilets, oh and, God forbid, other budget airline carriers. I mean, all those smells, ugh! And that annoying accent? Oh darlings, I really feel so much pain for those bums of yours, because all they ever do is get sat on and only seeing the light of day when you walk to McDonald's for takeaways. Yes, darling, I totes gets you.
Please, or rather not please, live up to your commendations? I am so ashamed that beneath all that thick makeup, that elegant dark blue uniform with batik designs, and that updo, is actually a shallow, condescending, arrogant and a superiority mindset of my fellow kinsmen. Utterly disgraced. I pity you for not having compassion and ignorance. Get your facts right before throwing your weight around, and even if you can throw your weight around, you are proud of it? Sure, maybe it's not part of your job scope, but do you have to make your demands like this?
Today, there were many babies at the airport today and that made me happy. Babies are so pure and innocent, and those little angelic cherubs are just adorable! I look at them and I look at the ugly personalities of society and the superficial sphere of adulthood, and die a little inside. But it's nice to look at these little angels and think of their futures, how much potential they have, where they might go. Good morals and values are foundations. Principles are the pillars and attitude is the architecture.
Sure, a pretty face goes a long way. But a pretty face will grow old and wrinkly, have pimple outbreaks and scars, go through rain and sun. But a good heart, both literally and philosophically (lol), goes with you till the day you die. That, is how you leave a legacy.
So, six.
Saturday is the sixth day.
Saturn is the sixth planet from the Sun.
I like the sun.
The sun is a star.
I like stars too.
You're my star.
And you are about sixteen thousand kilometres away from me.
There are sixes.
There are six more Saturdays till I get to see my star who is sixteen thousand kilometres away, now.
Remember how we used to run six rounds around?
Sixth of March is your birthday.
It is not my favourite number, nor about this day.
But there it is, six.
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