Wow, the office is fertile ground for throwing shade at everyone. Nobody there knows what's going on, it seems to me, and I don't think I'm any different from what a professional would say, what a conversation is like. Everyone's always taking jabs at each other in some way. The girl I'm working with, my friend, my absolute best friend—and now I see she calls me her absolute best friend because, well, I look out for her every need—she's always fighting with everyone, no matter what, because nobody likes her sophisticated social structure. Everyone wants to get rid of her, just like my closest colleagues tried to do to me, for God's sake. The girl is a beautiful woman, I have to say it. She's not particularly striking, she's slim, she exercises, and that's why I find her so attractive, because I'm in the same boat, or rather, I consider myself to have those same attributes, so as not to establish something universal, because what one person considers fat, another might consider thin. I'm not going to use the term "weakness," which I don't think is appropriate and I don't feel like looking it up.

I feel compelled to write and write to be prepared for the coming days, because we're going to have a meeting, amidst the crisis that, as I understand it, has caused each office to operate under regulated formats. All this time I've spent diligently studying who we are, how we got here, how we managed to clash, and who we're dealing with. I feel somewhat horrified by the things I've discovered in the environment, and I don't know what system she's operating under. Frankly, instead of studying, I would have liked her, the girl, to have extended an invitation, perhaps for one of those outings, for a drink, like those extroverted people do. But someone could also say that she would have liked me to bring her to my places, my social spaces, where I thrive no matter what. However, in both our cases, those spaces are already completely taken over, and that's precisely what allows us to connect with each other, which is what makes our group what it is. We don't interact outside the office, in order to make the most of our time there. I feel like I like her a lot, if we're going to talk about it, because we're in the same boat and maybe we could save each other, but the idea isn't to get into that, because that would be ignoring the other person's life, where they are, their ability to get out of there, in terms of being able to see them, which is what creates the distance that makes the whole thing, and that distance arises precisely because we don't meet the expectations of the relationship environment. Rather, if we want to foster being together, saving each other is already a contradiction.

I'd like to tell the girl how I feel, but it would be for something completely futile, something that wouldn't help us, and I do love her, I really do, and that's why I want to stay by her side. Frankly, what I feel I'm doing with this writing is structuring all the ideas I've had for the past few days. In essence, that's what I feel I'm doing, because it also happens that I can't find anything else to do but think. I don't have any distractions other than delving into theoretical discussions, which are, in themselves, topics I find to distract myself from the fact that she's not there. Of course, I don't doubt that she's doing the same, getting involved in situations that allow her to discern what I'm feeling. It's a kind of digging into it, and that's precisely what defines our way of being with each other right now, like in the office, which is where things happen, as I don't know if I've mentioned before. In the office, each of us focuses on digging in our own schematic territory: she from a well-established, totally sociable perspective, I from a well-established, totally professional one, which, nevertheless, we leave aside a little in front of each other to be able to embrace. In other words, we manage to embrace each other by partially abandoning our principles, making use of the remaining portion, so that there is a proposal for mutual action and a direction is established. Of course, the proposals contain elements of each other, and that's why they clash. The fact that our initial principles are opposed and that we partially abandon them allows for flexibility, and at the same time, it allows us to find ways to connect. This is achieved by accepting that what we've done is both disappointing and satisfying; that is, it results in a middle ground to which we commit ourselves. We don't like each other at all, nor do we dislike each other at all, and what keeps us together is being at that midpoint between liking and disliking. The tendency towards extremes leads to the establishment of comfort zones with others, which we try to prevent as much as possible, and which leads us to interactions that go beyond the norm, ultimately contributing to our progress and our efforts to safeguard them.

I like what I'm writing; I feel like I'm establishing our way of being in the world, according to the mechanics that define each of us. It's exciting and guiding, but at the same time, it's exhausting because none of the surrounding groups are addressing these issues; I'm the one doing it. I can't imagine how exhausted she must be, too, from discerning this, and that if we don't, if we don't expose ourselves to a coordinated approach, we would be exposed to acts of control, given that our principles are opposed and the pre-established coordination means that we operate from our own principles, which directly reject those of the other. We can speak of rejection when what is expressed is not part of future discourse, that is, it is not taken into account. However, rejection reaches its extreme when that discourse becomes a deflection for the other, a situation made possible through the visualization of counterparts. Often, the one who wins in such arenas is a matter of exercising argumentation within the environment, since, in essence, both are on the same level in terms of generative actions, so to speak, but what determines limitations is the environment, the collective understanding.

I feel like I'm using the site to create, so to speak, sociological diagrams, and I admit it tires me. I'm having fun, but I feel like I'm no longer getting to anything truly interesting. All this writing stems from the fact that, theoretically, being in a period of crisis and the company only operating in an irregular format, I took my time, but it hasn't been a stable thing because there are still activities going on in the company, in the office, anyway. In this recent context, there was an invitation to a get-together, which was prompted by the change in routine, as I was already on vacation. It also happens that I want to be as prepared as possible for that event, presentable. I can't say that her life, meanwhile, has been easier during this period, because I've already seen evidence that it hasn't. During this crisis, the girl has had a very difficult time regarding the repercussions of a family member's situation; I understand that's part of it. I'd like to be able to talk about what I'm doing, but it's a private matter, and I'm afraid to say what I'm doing, mainly because I don't remember what I'm doing. I don't share it because I do so many things that I simply don't remember any of them. I'm not focused on remembering; they're done for me and only me, just like with her. That's why telling me anything about her or about me is complicated because it means explaining what one does in an entire life, or at least in a certain period of time, which is a lot. That would absorb her from her life, and that's definitely not the idea.

Personally, I feel like I'm stretching my ideas to the limit, as much as possible, because I want to be as prepared as possible. I'm also doing it to forget about this whole thing once and for all. Having an unusual relationship in the middle of a period when socializing is unusual makes everything feel new.

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