Of Bosses and/in Blogs Part 1

I previously had a meeting with my boss and one of his main topics is something about confidentiality and non-evilness and delicadeza. I practically went out of all the rules in syntax parallelism here. I don't care.

Anyway, he told me stuff about how one should try as much as possible to avoid documenting rantings and angst. Once it is written, he says, you deprive yourself of redemption. (person pronoun-antecdent error). You make yourself vulnerable to hasty generalizations by people who measure personality through online blogs and status updates and updated shout-outs. (I'm fully aware of my overuse of my conjunctions here). People who are scared to be judged this way are probably are because they're guilty of the same thing.

By his logic or at least from my perspective of his "point", he is simply saying, "don't blog about your rantings especially if it's work. Therefore, don't blog about your boss. So in essence, don't blog at all." Did I just commit a fallacy? Sue me!

So again, what do I have to say to that? I think it's bull. I think that if he were alive during the Marcos dictatorship (he probably is), he'd probably be one of those people who clamored for brownie points. He had probably kept his mouth shut and tolerated the evil to retain status quo.

Excuse me, I have to go bathroom to puke.

Since when did people start robbing themselves off of their right to their own perspective and opinion so they would seem flawless? This is not a rhetorical question; I really want to know. And who needs flawless? Who needs self-righteousness? Who needs ass-kissing, evil-tolerating, ever-conforming puppets? Again, not rhetorical. I also want to know.

A light bulb lit and I thought that maybe the overlying question is, "who is more evil; the individual who pisses you off or you who got pissed off?" But then again, I bet some are going to argue and say nobody's at fault as long as nobody puts that into writing and publish it over the Internet so everybody can read.

I wish to go back to the time (if there really is that time) when it's completely normal for people to slap each other when they're hurt and end end up in complete symbiotic peace. I slap you when you mess with me and you do that too. That way, I don't have to tame myself and smile even if I really want to bury my stilettos in your face.

I'm sorry if I don't buy this definition of confidentiality and non-evilness and delicadeza.

The moment I let myself engrossed in this art of office politics and self-righteousness is the day I tolerate mediocrity, inequity and injustice. The moment I become this is the day I die.



Texts in pink, italicized fonts are my way of saying "I'm not here to impress you with my self-important syntax, vocab and grammar. I'm here to tell you I'm alive."

P.S. I know you read my blog. Congratulations to you! I do not discourage you to write anything bad about me. Please do.