Yesterday was Saturday, and I was asked to come to work on Sunday, which is today, for 3 hours, though experience shows that it’s usually longer than what they say. I refused to come. They say it’s important. That’s an insult. It implies that my free time, and my home life is not.<\/p>\n
I know the importance of the meeting. I know that people have flown down from other cities, and even though it wasn’t planned up to the last minute, the meeting will decide some critical issues. The point is, I find my home life, and what I do on Sunday, even more important.<\/p>\n
I won’t say that I have some commitment, or that I write some book, or some other fruity occupation like that. I just waste my time. And it’s very important for me to waste my time. More important than anything else. Wasting time is all for me. I wish I could waste decades of my time, but I’m forced to work. It turns out, that when I waste time for long periods, I paradoxically become rather productive. My last two years which were wasted, were the most productive of my life. I learned the guitar, played chess, wrote poetry and other articles, picked up a bit of Japanese, and learned a good deal of psychology, among other things.<\/p>\n
But that’s hardly the point. Even if I didn’t do anything productive, I still have a right to make wasting time a priority. I choose to do so. I wish to accomplish nothing, and die unknown.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"