|
|
Sunday, September 19, 2004
Thoughtless thoughts.
My arms ache. My mind feels like it's barely functioning. I can't concentrate. I realize it's 11:30, and that if I'd've closed, I'd've gotten off about this time. But I didn't close. My dad got me to trade with Chris Koontz, so I could go to a movie.
The movie was lame. I didn't even see the movie. I couldn't concentrate. I watched the movie but it gave me nothing. It was just images. It meant nothing.
I'm in misery. I feel like I want to cry. I'm too strong for that. Through the whole movie, I thought about how I'll ask Chelsea Lee to go see a movie with me, or something. I realize how desperate I am. How that she'll probably say yes, but I don't know what'll happen from there.
It would be nice to disappear. But that isn't happening. I'm stuck in this humdrum existence. There's no turning back now.
I wonder where I'll be, in the future. Who I'll be. What job I'll have. I wonder if I'll become a famous novelist. When that thought comes to mind, I don't think it'll ever happen.
I realize I don't look forward to the weekends anymore. It's busy at the Steak Buffet on weekends, and I always work each day of the weekend, at least 5-10.
Today felt like murder. Towards the end, I was tired. I was washing.
I need someone. I want someone.
I wonder what it feels like to kiss. I wonder what it feels like to love. I wonder why I'm even alive.
I wish I could control my life. I wish I could only live in the good parts.
I wouldn't want to know everything. I wouldn't want to control everything. It'd make it boring. I just wish I could get past this part of my life. Go to a part where I have something more than myself.
I don't want to remember working. It's gone. It's as if it never happened.
I should get a different job. One that pays more than a little over minimum wage. One that isn't so physically demanding. One that doesn't take so much out of me.
Not that it always does.
I wish everything would stop. I wish it wasn't the weekend. I wish I was at school. I wish it was Wednesday or Thursday, when I don't work, only go to school.
I'm running out of things to say. I don't even know why I said anything.
Everyone has their problems. Everyone has their own set of eyes. Everyone has a different heart. It beats different than mine.
Everyone has their own self. Everyone sees everything from themselves.
I think I'll go to sleep.
I think first I'll write something.
Comments
(4)
« Home |
|
