Index - Profile - Archives - Notes - DiaryLand - Random ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 813. I'll not recount the events that occured in the last few weeks. I'm not sure I'm in the mood to quarter myself here, where I'm most likely found. And, I'll be honest, today I stopped caring about who reads this, or why, or how they got here, or if they know what my tongue feels like inside of their mouth. Today I stopped giving a shit entirely. About pretty much everything. Instead of telling you everything I'm not going to tell you, I'm going to tell you what a disappointment growing up really is... in a poorly writen analogy, fueled by anger and beer, angst and general frustration. I've been walking around with a heavy load of apathy in recent weeks to find some kind of revelation brought to me on the freeway, yesterday on my way to work. My wasted Saturday, spent earning money to further waste on worthless shit. My time, my friends, is worth much more to me than seventeen dollars an hour. [And so, now I've become the asshole that calls me and demands I compensate him at his current billing rate of fifty dollars an hour.] Faced with a heavy choice: Keeping a shread of hope, that at 24 I would have thought some kind of fucking honor, or saving face, scraping self respect, and swallowing my desperation. And so I was put off. And off. And off again. Just as I have been before, and seemingly, always will be. [Even currently, an instant message has been put off by the other party.] Sorry. Back to the analogy I promised. When you first begin to ride a bike, you have brief moments of sheer joy, shortly followed by longer moments of extreme pain. You know you will fall down, but the amount of pain you may experience is a variable, maybe this time I will not eat pavement. And this process continues until you can ride a bike without falling down. For some reason, once you learn to ride the bike, it's still fun, but that same moment of joy you had previously is no longer present. Perhaps because it has been extended, or maybe for some of us, because the risk has been removed. This is my life. Now, I look upon my choices with nothing but resignation. Why bother choosing? I know the outcome of each choice prior to making it, and I can see the road it's going to lead down. I see the bruises and cuts before I even get on the bike. I see you, and I see I mean nothing. Maybe, possibly, I am a human, a co-worker, a female, and could be cared for in that regard, but you'll never care enough about me to wonder what my favorite color is, or pay attention enough to buy me a drink before I finish what I have in front of me. I see you, and I see I mean freedom. I mean blue skies and car trips and laughing and I know that doesn't last. I know I am simply your boarding pass to a better future for both you and her. I see you, and I see I was the requisite matinee, as always. The two hour, discount movie to pass away your time in what might have been pleasant conversation, in what might have been something else if the right chemical compounds had been present and possibly if you enjoyed the smell of sandalwood. Nothing says it better than what I've already said before: I'm tired of looking into eyes and seeing Sunday morning. I'm going to go cry now. The End. 10:05 p.m. - 2004-01-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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