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   If your 9 to 5 office life consists foremost of wishing it was over – for the day, the week, forever – it might resemble somewhat of a prison sentence: closed in by the narrow walls of a cubical cell, tied down to a chair and chained to a mouse, one-hour lunch breaks your lap in the yard. And nobody ever visits. Looking at it from the outside, I can’t help seeing bars in the symmetry that comes with the sterile and institutional blueprints of office buildings around the world.

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