outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
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05.13.04, thursday afternoon

I hate the New World. Last night Rachel and I were nearly in tears of fury. Although Chi-nam has worked 149 hours in the past two weeks, she was told by our manager to continue working despite the fact that she was close to passing out from exhaustion and our assistant chef (also working a horrendous amount of hours) had gone AWOL. In protest, we turned off the OPEN sign but Chi-nam continued to cook, laughing to herself, her eyes sunk so far in her head.

I see that more and more, everyday in the streets--people are breaking down all the time, in little ways, in big ways. I look away; I know how close I am to breaking down, too.




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