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Search - "blood everywhere"
I stare through the blueish black backgrounds and blurry colorful syntax into a somewhat familiar office within a mirrored world. That damned reflective glass layer covering these meaningless pixels is certainly not on my side.
The rushing sound of transactions flowing through cables is silenced today. Some blood cloth in the invoicing system is zeroing out everything after the currency mark.
While sighing I spin a one-and-a-half pirouette on my desk chair — even when desperate, you shouldn't give up on style — I take three steps away from my screen and try to harmonize my thoughts.
So much noise, everywhere... Noise from within?
I have been stuck at the apogee of an inhale for a while now. Locked into some masochistic constriction, self-punishment for the blindness which stings my ego.
Just fucking take a deep breath you asshole...
I freeze in place, and fall backwards.
Patterns on the creamy drywall rapidly vibrate and synchronize on vivid rhythms of respiration and resonating basslines. Deep indigo rainbows ripple through tiny veins, in-between chalky grains, raining as fine magenta dust through the ceiling frames.
My bare feet slide over soft oscillating concrete, fine flows of unsievable sand surrounded by toes, toes surrounded by streaming variables veiled in obscure vile abstractions.
A jadegreen field of vectored compressions resiliently rumbles and bounces through the clearances and corners of the vibrant concrete office cave, whispering in tongues. I try to voice my woes in little blips and bleeps but I seem to be missing an asymmetric key to their shrouded sequenced speech.
Suddenly, a wild turbulence breaks up all signals.
Joanna floats by in her tipsy effervescent cloud of disordered black hair and alcohol perfume, one hand grasping grapes, her other waving at me.
With every finger she moves a thousand tensors propagating paradoxically flawed but perfect pieces of an intricate surreal picture, sketching whole constellations of possible paths throughout the leafs of the giant Ficus next to her desk.
She stops dead in her tracks, and asks somewhat hypocritically: "Are you high?"
I can not discern the meaning of her words, and respond stoically.
"Joanna! Check out those branches!".
"Pun intended?", she giggles.
I'm focused on her grapeless hand, her fingers stretching to reach the lush little tree.
On touch, the plant shivers, grappled in the tight net of the puppet master. She pulls her strings, applying measured weights, all nodes normalize, and Joanna speaks in an oddly soft tone:
"Isn't it beautiful, how so many models emulate nature"
Her cheek buried in foliage she babbles on about unbalanced search trees and machine learning models... but from the tips of her fingers tables and indexes flow into the plant. Users, payments, tariffs, invoices and taxes crawl over the bark, joining at thicker branches, joining at the stem....
Joining. JOINING. A JOIN.
"IF THERE'S NO FUCKING TAX MULTIPLIER IN THIS LEFT JOIN, EVERYTHING COALESCES TO ZERO" I shout at a perplexed Joanna who squeezes grape juice over her desk. I hop on the beat to my keyboard. She looks puzzled, hugs her Ficus tightly, and reaches for the whiskey bottle behind her monitor.
Attracted by my exclamation, Tom from finance swings open the door, while I push my branch.
I look at Joanna still half hiding between the leaves, and I laugh at her: "Branches! Oh, lame, I finally got it!"
Tom's heavy voice interrupts me: "Does this mean... does this mean that the invoicing bug is resolved?".
I smile at Tom with his tailored suit and waxed hair. "The money is flowing once more. All debts are being settled."
He releases his breath in relief, which he seems to have held since that morning as well.
Joanna adds: "Although I think he is forever indebted to my Ficus".
I feel that people are quick to blame PHP for a lot of things. But come on, you have to admit it has the most straightforward debugging workflow:
Take a ritual knife out of your desk drawer
Sacrifice some blood to the PHP gods
Clean the knife
I'm so annoyed.
Now I can't even have an online portfolio, publish articles, or just any kind of online presence for my career. First, I receive emails from exes. Now, my relatives. They can't find me in other social media so they google me instead, find my website, and try to contact me there. It sucks because my projects are picking up some attention and one of the reasons I find it easy to land a job is because companies can search for my name and see my work. For that to be turned into a burden is just another thing they try to take away from me. I have no life. I can't have one. They will always follow.
I am already paranoid that the people emailing me regarding code are just them posing as someone else which doesn't help my confidence at all. Some of the LinkedIn recruiters who ask for my contact number could be them. At this point, all I can do is ignore. Just push through with my projects, have zero online presence unless code related, and just fucking hope they get tired eventually although it's been half a decade of silence from me.
It's so fucked up how disrespectful these people are. No matter how many times you tell them to fuck off, they still try to sabotage all your efforts of having a life or career from a distance. Also, how convenient that you're reaching out to me after a typhoon. I guess you need money and you immediately thought of that "one rich relative who want nothing to do with us but blood is thicker than water so she will definitely help us".
Fuck you. Fuck off.
Leeches. Leeches everywhere.23
My job title should be Fireman.
Seriously, the only reason I think my boss makes such stupid fucking decisions and starts fires everywhere is because he knows I have to and can put them out.
Infuriatingly blood boiling or compliment? Can’t decide...8
Why the hell must Microsoft always be dickhead about the telemetry.
Take one beautiful NET.CORE. I make an app for myself, deploy it only to find out that those data-hungry arses have built-in default enabled telemetry and the only way to disable it is to set one dick-long env. variable:
No way to exclude it completely, you have to sweat blood everywhere it runs.
Consent ? Hardly, just small line during installation...
I swear everything MS touches turns into spyware...1
The worst of Agile and Sc(r)um: All those people knowing the right way(™) to do it. Endless discussion about useless tooling: the proper use of the custom workflow in Jira, on when and how to create sub tickets. The hour-less meta-discussions on what should be discussed where and when (what's subject of the backlog refinement, retro, etc), the roles: the PO's, what he should do, cannot, the PM's. Who is allowed to pull a ticket to the sprint or not. How many reviewers need to acknowledge a pull request. To and fro. Pointless, but fought with heart and blood, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
And everywhere I hear: "In my previous company, we did Scrum like.. and it worked perfectly!"
Some of you might remember my rants on Mr. Gitmaster, with whom I thought I'd made my peace. Guess what? He's now a team member and turning into Mr. Agile - a more severe reincarnation! As our company starts flogging that dead horse of Agility, he seems to feel strong tailwind. Our team lead would constantly cut his monologues, but he's now on holiday, so we have no escape from the never ending: "In my previous company..."
If it was so great, why didn't you stay?
We are not allowed to pull a ticket to the sprint unless every team member is notified? I don't fucking care. If our software fails on customer's machines and I can fix it, I will do if there is a ticket, if it's in the sprint or not. Screw Scrum, if it is getting in the way of it. You can waste your hours discussing horseshit, I want to sit at my desk, deep in the test-compile loop and ship some fucking code.3
SO FKING BORED. ALL TICKETS ARE CLOSED, NOTHING IN TRELLO. SITTING IDLE IS THE FUCKING DIFFICULT THING TO DO. IF I WILL NOT GET AN ISSUE ASSIGNED TO ME SOON THEN THERE WILL BE BLOOD SHED EVERYWHERE.9