I find it increasingly hard to effectively express how frustrated I am with the philistinism of all these people. Escorting, interacting, civil smiles could not have veiled my ill-concealed irritation of it anyway.
Out of duty I will attend a seminar in which one fat guy will gibber on for hours, whereby we sit fixed as audience, struggling hard to stifle our yawns, which by nature are a contagious social phenomenon. All of us are like sheep stuffed into one big cage, and then the shepherd which does the task out of his supposed duty in order to feed his family, will heat the cage, feed us with fake and artificial manners on how to act as a robotic salaryman in these big, mundane machines later on. The heat itself is fake too, full of cockneyed boosting of morale and a necessarily brainwashing quality to it. The heat is sometimes too great that all the facial acnes of one of our senpai, accumulated over sleepless nights writing curriculum vitae and fake 自己ＰＲ, would burst out like beans first coming out of ground on their first harvest. Oh, this is unbearable; the vision itself is yet too hilarious for one to bear with his indignation at the system for too long.
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