Sunday, December 20, 2009

54. Standing Trial

Allow me this one brief moment to lay all of my thoughts in my head onto an online format. If simply for the sake of my own peace of mind.
I'm tired of being afraid to take chances. I'm tired of living in the same place. I'm tired of the same faces, the same stop signs, the same lack of sidewalks, this awful wallpaper that my mother saw fit to hang up. I'm tired of my job, the lack of equipment upkeep over the last ten years, the hole in the floor, leaky pipes, ugly panini presses, broken refrigerator doors, combination locks that stick, and the lack of help from anyone but me. I'm tired of being tired. I'm tired of being afflicted with constant wanderlust. It's a disease, a condition, a desire that will never be filled. A goal that will never be met. I don't care about money, I don't care about being healthy, I don't care about a steady paycheck, I don't care about a mailing address, I don't care about groceries, I don't care about the floor being swept or not, I don't care about building lasting functional relationships, I don't care whether or not I'm alone. I just want to be happy with the person I am. I feel like I haven't given myself the chance to find whoever or whatever that is. The only finger I need to point is my own at myself. It's no one else's fault but mine because I'm afraid. I'm practically terrified. I'm tired of standing trial in front of myself. I'm the only judge and jury I will ever answer to, thats a fact. I'm just looking for a new job. 
I hate having to beat myself up over nothing all the time. 

How do you plead?

Thursday, December 17, 2009

53. mixtapes

I'm making these again.

I believe in the power of other people saying things for you when you just can't seem to find the right things to say.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

52. In the kitchen again

I'm folding my laundry after a long day of nothing. Work starts in 8 hours, and any normal person would be in bed right? Good thing I'm not any normal person.  I'm listening to SQRM for the first time. I like it. Spastic, raw, and snotty.  Attritbutes that should be embodied by every "punk" band, I think. If you are into that kind of thing I highly suggest that you look them up on the internet. They have no web page, no myspace, no nothing. They're from Massachusetts and the only way to hear them is to go see them or download it. I'm not going to post any links on here so just find them for yourself. SQRM, do not sleep.

Moving on. 
Listen, I read things, I read into even more. Maybe a lot more than any regular person should. I go over scenarios, details, and outlooks in my head until it physically hurts to think about them. I'm not as stupid, or as naive as you would maybe like to think I am. If you truly feel the way you do, if you are physically disgusted by me then come on out and tell me. Let me know. I've spent far too much time and put far too much effort into being one of the best friends I can be to you simply to have you feel the way you do. It's not a good feeling to have, I have enough to worry about. I don't want it to be like this I never did. 

Sunday, December 6, 2009

51. Wanderlust

I'm craving travel

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

The big five O

Hello kitchen counter, it's me again. Your old friend, most trusted advisor, a shoulder to lean on, an ear to talk to, a hand to hold and support for your psyche. I'm just writing this to remind you that I'm still here whenever you need me. Those other people out there, they're not my real friends. Sure the play nice, have sincere smiles and firm handshakes but they don't mean it. They never did. As soon as you're out of the room the chatter starts, the eyes dart around the room, rumors are whispered in code, lies are spread in tongues. Nobody else here likes you, nobody else here needs you, nobody else here wants you. Nobody. Does it depress you to finally realize how alone you actually are? Does it hit you like a ton of bricks? Is it that sinking feeling in your stomach, or the pain in the back of your head? Its the smell of a cold room, and the feeling of even colder sheets. No one to kiss you goodnight, not one to wake up to. They don't want you, they don't need you. They never did, and they never will. You might think I'm crazy, talking to kitchen counters like this.  The truth is I need you just like you need me.No one is ever going to want us, no one is ever going to need us, no one is ever going to like us. Only you for me and me for you. Us. For an entire miserable eternity.

These lonely nights are getting to me. I count the hours, the minutes, the seconds, and how many times I blink in a day. I pray for clouds to lift, day to break, and a smile to return to my face.
"they keep calling me" 

49. Hank