I’m fighting temptation. Found this site among the ones I frequent for looking up whores and stuff. Got a lot of young girls, age 19 and up, who sell their bodies on the net. Most of the numbers are unavailable because this site isn’t maintained. But there are some recent ones. Eyeing a 20 year old girl in a neighbour city. Yeah. Just need to stop myself in the tracks of sending a message or calling the number up. Maybe it’s a fake? I don’t think so. But I ain’t got money, I’m saving up 316€ until September for uni! Who cares, I can take out an allowance from my savings account. It’s only 65€ for 30 min. Asian hookers charge 80. I want to finger me a girl, like last time. Feel the wetness on my fingers. I’m quite good at that. Unfortunately I came after two measured thrusts, standing from behind. I got close to make her come after licking and playing with her Japanese body. But all of a sudden she just begged me to fuck her, which I tried to avoid because I know about my predicament. But, by her very japanese way of begging, she shut down any further attempt to let her climax by my hands. So with a heavy heart I took her from behind and as expected shot my load inside of her after putting it in and saying a firm: “Hello, how are you?”. What a waste. I just can’t help it. Had to fight my urge to vomit too, because before that I tried licking her like in porn movies: From behind with my face all up in her ass. What can I say, my tounge got too close to her anus. Big mistake. Movies are NOT real life, check. But it was nice to hear that I make her horny, I felt validated. Would be better if I could fuck the shit out of her too, but what the heck. Also remember that Chinese chick that just squeezed my dick in her vagina like a fist. Really impressive stuff. But anyway. Writing about it helps me come to grips with my imagination, expectation and day dream fantasies. After all the goal is to stay celibate for spiritual and financial gain. I kid you not. Btw I got a blowjob from a German hooker once, last month. Kinda different. She smelled really bad, just for a second while she blew me. But, what can I say, my balls were empty for a week or so because I shot my load and then some. Think she was a bit impressed about the amount in that condom. Saying I can tell her to slow down next time, so I can get to have intercourse too. They all look so much younger and revitalised after shooting my load, then when they greet me at the door. Maybe a hormonal thing. I could tell she liked me after shooting a bottle full of sperm for her. Before that, kinda reserved. Guess it’s like an affirmation or validation too. Like that overflowing condom is saying: “Yup, you’re hot and I like you… this much.” But I think I’ll stop now. This is just to rid myself from another such episode. I hope it works. I need to hold on to my money. Fingers crossed.


Uneasy. Those days when you don’t trust the quiet. Like walking through the forest but noticing the absence of bird song. Something I must have missed. Something is coming to bite me when I least expect it. Maybe a lack of preparation. Leading to trouble. 

Work goes as usual. I don’t mind. Uni is on my mind. But not right now. I want to eat pizza. Yet got no money in the budget. Bought groceries to cook ahead. Yet don’t want to move. Have to be up at 5am. And my off day is tomorrow after. 

I want to eat chicken and calamaris and gyros and pizza and salad and drink soda pop. I do nothing but eat lately. Work out too. But it is more dealing with aggression. I get so aggressive that I pump out chin ups I wouldn’t do on my own accord. But it helps disperse my negative feelings. For now. 

I miss some other life. A life that is spent smelling the sea breeze. Watching the sun and the sky after a day’s work, doing something. Over beer and potato chips. Grilled fish and friendly familiar faces. I am tired. Yet I am not unhappy. I feel curious. About how this cycle is going to go.


Thing I take away from all the stress at work is that it makes me do pull and chin ups like mad. Bad thing is that now I am sore and can’t do any. There is that girl who just haunts me. She has a nervous energy around her that just being near her feels like times when you wipe your ass after taking a shit and it won’t stop fucking you know what I mean. Seriously, it is really, really bad. Sadly she is among the incompetent, so everyone is fine with it, some way, somehow. But really, objectively, she is just a real nuisance with no real contributing factor to a competent team. Only that a team can learn how to deal with massively disruptive persons like her. Always taking notes, yet not learning anything. Complimenting ones skills, yet unable to keep it appropriate, so it does not disrupt work flow or feels creepy. Asking shit every second call she takes, as if others have to do the work for her. Which is fine if the person she asks would not be the cave troll next to me and if she would stop swaying her body side to side while she stands there, waiting like a fucking asshole. Problem is it is the blind leading the blind. So any answer she gets from that cave troll digs a deeper hole for them both, to bury roots of incompetence. The solution they come up with in tandem leads nowhere and the next agent (in that case it was me) who takes the call from the same customer starts from fucking zero. Hell, I made mistakes, but nothing that three clicks and a sorry wouldn’t fix. They fuck up on a grand scale and frankly, I switched departments because postpaid is the same only that you depend on blind motherfuckers for your life, throwing you a bone because the systems are a fucking labyrinth only assholes can know and they rush you through training. But anyway. I’m the fucking best. At prepaid, the systems are at least 10 times easier, the customers are more laid back and we are a pilot project which means the guys I work with are all my equal in hierarchy. Besides the wanker situation. I am the best, that I imply. Although there are times when I transfer calls somewhere else, but always in the know that the customer will have a better chance of solving the issue there. And that maybe once, at most two times in the five hour shifts I do. The number of calls I handle equals fuckers who are there full time and my numbers are allright and by that I mean a solid B. And there is a fucking reason call centre jobs are among the worst of the dead end jobs out there. I won’t stop bragging about myself, as long as I see that everything is a negotiation at how much I am held back by everyone else’s incompetence and peon attitude towards life. Because only real peons stick with this kind of job. Did I mention broken systems that crash all the time? And me forgetting my passwords, now and then. Like, you don’t have to yell at customers, the gear is sensitive so they hear shit being whispered an aisle away. So if your conversational voice is really loud, make a fucking effort and keep it down. We’re fucking rubbing shoulders so don’t think you’re at your fucking kitchen table talking to the wifey at what kind of toothpaste to buy. Second, when I laugh because I think it’s funny what a customer says, I’m not phony. I laugh cause I got a sunny disposition. When I hear my team do a phony laugh to test my kind of attitude on them it is unnerving, though I mentioned that maybe they learn by example. They don’t. They’re just annoying. And do shit to make me mad. Because the talented is target for assholes. So either I get really, really buff from my job. Or I fucking quit. I’m serious. I prefer getting buff though. We’ll see. I just want to do my job in peace. Please. If I don’t get that, I guess that this job can do without me, though I know that on a certain level they know that I am a fucking asset. They better, if they know what’s good for them. So, keep those shitheads away from me so I can focus on the fucking job. If that isn’t what is called for, I talked to my parents because of the uni situation starting late September. They think it’s a great idea and probably would give me my old part time job at the store. Although that was hell too. I guess the hell you know is better then the hell you don’t. I will try to make it work at the call centre, but first sign I see that this kind of annoyingly incompetent girls and boys with social skills learned in the andromeda nebula calls home where I work? I can skip commuting 20km and find it at my parents store for 2. At the very least they should stay away from me. Hmm maybe I need to find myself a nice and quiet spot to sit. Fuck. Because there is none. Heaven help!


As a misfit. That would sum up my life up to now. It all depends on my mood too, but right now I think about my friends from high school. Saying I went crazy and roll their eyes when they hear about me. It hurts. Didn’t when it came to my attention. Maybe it needs to fall into too deep a well until things make me feel something that it can be said I am maladjusted to social life. But even though I want to show them I am not. That I just went where no way was and failed miserably. I know that we all went too long without each other’s company. Even though we act like we’re close. It is just an act. Racial divide even. I know that I need to move on and it hurts. I can’t even move on from my parents and I hate my parents. At least I can wait and hope. Hope for a miracle. For change. For better days.


Guess our new team leader is kinda hot. Looks like she’s in her thirties, definitely on the younger side for leading teams. Changed to our department from back office, so one can sense that she is letting some kind of inexperience show. The kind that is appropriate to flash at us groundlevel call centre agents. I almost laugh when I listen to the conversation with our team leaders. They all answer just like upper management would. In the most general way possible but always according to textbook. You know listening to silly things getting beaten like a dead horse. That our numbers have to be right, that smoking is bad for health and all that jazz. But I don’t wrap my head around it. Frankly I don’t care. I care about doing my job. If that means a different thing to another, so be it. Yet I see that our guys all modify the way they talk to customers to fit my speech patterns. Which is commendable. Because I am a fucking great communicator and it means that they see that they should imitate me. Fake it till they make it, so to speak. I am dead serious. My numbers may seem just all right and not especially awesome. Yet I know that they all have got something to learn from me. Something one learns by example. As I said before, the reason I look down on everybody is that nobody got my skills. Skills regarding shit that is hard to explain. A well. I love my job, because I got zero responsibilities for those assholes around me. I scratch my head when I see them fighting over the hierarchy. Who wants to be the king of assholes? I am glad to pay for food and gas and all that stuff and watch my YouTube and Netflix and Korean variety shows and well, trust in Jesus. Of course no one likes to be bullied by fucktards but I like eating and working even more. And the sole reason to seek promotion is that they don’t need to take calls. Makes sense that they wanna be in charge. Instead of doing the job they are terrible at they can boss around those who are terrible as well. And make everyone miserable in the process. So I try to create a bubble where I can do my job and do it well. And I pride myself that this work ethics collide with everybody. Fucking everybody. In a way that puts my way against theirs. Because I always assume that they are terrible and poor communicators. And frankly they are objectively speaking. As I mentioned before, we are last in customer ratings along with Berlin, for Germany. So the solution is that everybody takes up my example. I really do think that it is. This is no megalomania, for I know it is still crap. Because the system is kinda set up in a way that sucks. And at the root lies nothing but more misery which is why it’s alright as it is. If it’s not broken don’t fix it. My pay stays the same. Why wake a sleeping lion if someone has to be last. And anyway. Our new team leader is not THAT hot. Maybe a strong 6. Turning to a solid 7 compared to the gals I sit next to. But listen to Mr. “Too shy to have a girlfriend and fucks prostitutes for 15 seconds” rate women. Hmm. Fun though. This whole blog was just about coming to grips with how hot the new TL is on a 1 to 10 scale, really. I just read it again, it’s basically trying to avoid but then going right for the rating. Followed by a typical amount of self depreciation. Out of guilt, I guess. I’ve got a very analytical mind regarding shit. Like an expert butcher who knows the motions cutting up a cow. The cave troll next to me nicknamed me “combat Korean”. Sounds like some stereotype of Asians gets honoured by that. But it is inoffensive and therefore nice. I heard worse. 


Think racism is the poor man’s comfort. Take refuge in a homogenous world view. Shut out anything and everyone by its looks or point out the difference to emphasize weirdness. Koreans and Japanese are definitely racists. So I am not rubbed the wrong way when I meet racist Germans. They’re just like my people. In fact maybe in a weird way a sign that the scars of Hitler Germany has healed. And now they can embrace a provincial racism that hasn’t got that insane streak to it of biological superiority and master race, but just plain old human laziness. Laziness to make an effort. An effort to become the best version one can be. No-one who is truly looking for power can entertain petty racism. That is why the “will to power” in my view is absolutely okay to be yanked out of its Nazi context that was artificially forged around it. Socrates said that it would be a shame to let time pass without trying to get in best physical and mental shape possible. Something along the lines. To me that is the will to power. Now, on a completely different note. I hate that I have a low nose bridge. It sucks. I want a Roman nose. Face reading says low nose bridge means low self esteem. I think that’s true. I don’t have a lot of self esteem. Yet am arrogant and look down on everyone in private. It shows more in ways that I don’t speak up for myself or assert myself verbally. I am really quiet. People who do usually offend my sense of aesthetics. Both oratory and logically. Yet I would only give my opinion when asked. I am never asked. All in all I wouldn’t mention that if I would not trust that somehow, I’m alright. I know because of Jesus. I know that He knows me in ways I don’t. And that my shortcomings He can turn into a tool to do some good in a weird way. So. That is that. Just had those things on my mind. I am just surprised the kind of things I hear at work in ear shot about eggrolls and ching chang  chong. It hurts but at the same time I see how it limits the mind that utters and declares itself in this way to me. But, this in itself is punishment. It really is. The ways this kind of minds can suffer is pretty horrible. Whereas minds like mine don’t give a shit. What must seem like a storm to them is nothing really worth mentioning to us. Cause we’re the more evolved baby. Put that on my resume. It is because those people make themselves targets. That thinking ultimately leads to suffering. Whereas mine always leads to less suffering. Or aims at it, anyway. Speaking in Buddhist terms. I tried to say that they make themselves playthings for demons. But that didn’t rang a bell with what I wanted to express. Hmm, I’m a special kind of fool to think I can actually express what I also am aware of in piecework. But hey, it’s a blog. I can try. I consider myself as most virtuous, my interests as most important. And yet bad things I will reap when the cup that I filled unknowingly with bad deeds comes to overflow. Which is why I never expect to be treated nice. Nor life to be fair. For I do not know, what I don’t know.


Sit beside a girl at work, who looks and is built like a miniature cave troll. Which makes it easy for me: No sexual tension in the air. She is one of the old rabbits on our team. Old rabbits, you say in Germany. Well, she’s as base as people are, whether they’re upper management or serving coffee. Everyone likes to get their food first. Hmm. Shit, I ran out of other example for base people. But all in all just a peon. One I can get along with, just fine. Besides two days ago. When she escalated a call with a customer over some stupid, base, reason. Dragged in colleagues from another location by blaming them. And freaked out when our worktype manager, the job description that says boss of the prepaid department, didn’t take the side of our fap’s. Fap stands for “guys who like to think they’re in charge” and the German abbreviation is kinda unfortunate for English ears. But they really are just wankers. Postpaid department at least have seniority on their side. Those fucks essentially raised their hands when they asked who wants to be the small minded guy with a little authority around and all got approved on a whim. One week the 13 of us got our training. But anyway, that cave troll is one of those fucks. The one I can tolerate the most. About my age and looks really old. But after she dragged some other wanker in on it, (who claims to be Zoroastrian btw, I kid you not) I swear she sat down next to me, smelling as if she crapped herself. It was so overwhelming I had to hold a customer in the line to check if the window was open. It was open. Luckily she got up and the smell was gone after 5 or 10 minutes or so. But hey. Whatever. Thought I would point that out. Because I am a nice guy.

We’re having fucking breakfast tomorrow. You know in Korea, as salary man or woman one is pressured into drinking with colleagues after work. Turned into a real problem and garnered some media attention over the years. Here in Germany those fucks at our location really love to organise breakfast. The greatest assholes trip over themselves to sign up on the list of who is bringing what. For some reason the greatest assholes bring the rolls or the bread and eggs. Then they like to set some office space apart as the buffet area and arrange their bullshit breakfast. Waste of fucking time money and nerves. No wonder our location alongside Berlin are worst at customer service polls. They care more about horrible breakfasts then job performance and call that, I don’t know, team building maybe. But the bottom line is: 95 percent of them are horrible at their job as call centre agent. Because they have no communication skills. My ears bleed listening to their calls. And the only reason I am there is because the standard is so low, guys like me can come in if they want to. Now I am terrific and a valuable asset anywhere, but people don’t know that. When I walk in, my whole demeanour triggers flight or fight reaction and only after they have thrown enough shit at my general direction they are able to not freak out. Well I don’t and somehow do know why that is, just not really interested right now. I polarize and those who like me are the good, those who don’t, enemies of good. In a nut shell. I kid you not, that is what I believe in. Because, sure why not? But anyway. I bought five packs of sausage I don’t eat because my stomach is sensitive to the salts and chemicals they pump into the meat. And really just am grateful to have a job I like for no other reason then what comes with the job description. I plan to go back to uni. Have to schedule around work. Hope that works out.