Venting The best

[Lavínia]

I was going to change departments at work, someone left and I was the only one who was interested. From customer service to monitoring. Observing the processes, following up to the current time without delays, and identifying errors before clients saw them. It was much easier, instead of talking to people, I would monitor the system. I was really excited, I started to learn, taking some time to adapt while they were still looking for someone to stay in customer service. They called me in for a talk a while ago, my manager said that I was the best where I was, and that leaving me would make the department outdated. A person who was already in monitoring wanted to come back and she could do it instead of me. I understood, it made sense. It hurt, but I understood. If I'm better at something, and someone else is better at something, the best thing is to stick with what we know.

I found out that this person gave up, and won't be doing that part anymore. And I found it strange that they didn't tell me... I still hadn't understood that the problem was me. It doesn't matter if she wanted to or not, I'm good at my field, so I can't leave it. I'm going to stay where I am. I don't know if I felt angry, maybe a feeling of insecurity, I still need to talk to people, continue to provide services. I felt angry.
A great pain is not having a sense of progress, processes and processes that revolve around papers painted with my face in watercolor. Red, black and blue, primary colors to deduce anxiety. I'm good at my field. I'm good at my field. I'm the best in my field. It seems like a lie, why do people love lies so much? They love the disconnection, the toying of the senses, the harsh acceptances that they pretend to have, as they love to pretend, they act to have. A lie is the power to accept, to accept a truth for each lie, a childish, false power. How can I be the best? Seriously, they can't see it. They can't, cardboard irises splash around my insides hunting for nodules but they don't see words and actions. Temporary position, I'm going to fall, I shouldn't even be the best anymore, is that just a figure of speech? I got disgusted with the other sector, I'm enjoying mine. Is that right? The hours pass, quantities, quantities, the ground evaporates under my feet, screams, curses, wants to consume me just to vomit. He eats to feel the burning of the later vomit, euphoria to lose comfort. A swimming pool, a body in pieces, you can't wear a bikini. A relationship, a body in pieces, dependence on what was, it won't work. Cars, green arrows for product transfer, the excluded are two-day cards that need to be collected to be medicated. The flower garden is clogged with vipers that convert blood into water, oscillating so that requests for the Red Saint are not generated. The tongue of your face corrupts everything, about truth. Sorry, lack of truth. Sorry, excess of truth. Truth, truth, truth, truth, truth, truth, truth, truth, truth whisper of the fallen stumbles in everything

 

[bankai]

They didn't want you moving to that position, so they made-up a lie that it was being filled by someone else?Seems like pretty typical office politics.