Ae9DREAM04-08-14

What is the relative size of the capitalism-capitalocene as a physical entity?

I.Y. says he can get me a job. I follow where he says to go, and I realie it's a skyscraper I've been to before. I used to work there long ago. In the lobby I set down this big pile of bags and coats I've been carrying and wait until I'm called upstairs. I pass someone I know, maybe S.V. . I'm surprised everyone looks so familiar. Still I feel unease mixed with titilation. The interview begins. The interviewer is definitely an office person type. She explains my duties like I'm already hired. The whole time I'm going with it. I explain why I'm eager, why I'm edxcited to leave the bakery and not be "covered in moldy dough all the time." She asks if they're busy/popular because they're a small, local company, and I say "sorta." She shows me a uniform, or maybe I just imagine wearing a Holland-America [my first employer] type getup, when an office-assistant with a beard comes in. I hear that they're wearing high-heels but I don't see it. I realize these must be more accepting times, even in boring business environments. The whole time I'm a bit surprised I'm being hired on the spot. I walk into the hall after the last pleasantries and see a lot of bustling young people working with older stereotypical office types. The wall in the interviewers' office has sacred geometry printouts on it, which I'm surprised about. One's like a Serpinsky Triangle, and the other is the overlapping triangle, sri[ yantra]-like, but only facing downward. They're burgundy. I take it as a good sign they're even there, without thinking or feeling their meaning. When the interviewer asks me my address. I say "14.. 14-0-something... 08? No, 02" but by the time I do she's already typing something, and says it's only a formality. As I start to leave, somewhat surprised that I got a new job so easily, I think of N.H. and how I shoulda told him about the job because he'd be so good at it, but I reasoned that he feels he's stuck in the reality he's created, so he wouldn't as easily realize he could be un-stuck. When I get to the lobby, there's a single black mother and her kids, tired with unimaginable strength. She urges them to leave leave the water fountain, but one daughter daughter is crying, afraid. I say "she might be stuck, that's a thing." "Oh is it?" and we bend down to see that her shoelace is caught in the mechanics of the underside of the fountain. I.Y. is in the lobby talking about his current workplace working on a new [Google] project, Google Slither or Silver. He says it'll end in some sort of tragic self referential negative feedback loop, but a female friend says with confidence that it'll be body knowledge that puts an end to Google.