A collection of the featured posts as they appeared on mo'time
Suffice it to say that when Starbucks first came out in the Philippines and the elated mass of laptop- brandishing professional career ants fell on their little knees worshipping it, I was nothing short of nauseous.
I was the eye-rolling, wise-cracking Janeane Garofalo of the corporate world, the anarchist who drew up defenses at anything vaguely resembling a navy blazer. I made it a sinister point early in my college years never to ever in my life concede to the gaping jaws of capitalism, and for 4 years following graduation, I was successful.
I became a beach bum, a night owl, a drifter, a rat—anything except a respectable young woman on her way to a respectable job. I felt that the 10-letter word “employment” was synonymous to death—death to freedom, to rights, to self. Surely anything that held you confined for 8-hours against your will qualified as oppression. Surely a soul would get lost somewhere between the blank white walls, the programmed lunch breaks and the monotonous, ceaseless marching of starchy white shirts. Death and demise, no doubt...
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