BG1: The daily grind...

is something I don't epxeriance, that is because I check my soul at the door at work. The second I enter the office, I have to pretend that I am a lifeless pile of meat filling a chair, or I will lose it.

i got no political views, have no morals - I care about noting except the task at hand. It is as if, should someone insult me in the office, they are inustling someone else, entirely. i leave a kind of "bot" running, which is the "me" my collueges see. I process an incoming queue, put the processed work in the outbox. The real me is somewhere else. Usually in Africa on a mountain or crossing Antarctica or on another planet somewhere, cleaning my gun or plotting a revolution.

Most days by the time I get home and shake this mode off, I cannot remember a single thing that happened during the day. Everyone has had this experience driving, this moment of self consciousness where you cannot recall a single thing that happened in the last half hour you've been on the road.