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Sunday, November 7, 2004
So tired so sick so gone so lost so sick so tired so gray so walked on so trodden so faded so far aw
I worked 5 - about 11 today.
Tomorrow I work from 11 a.m. to around 11 p.m. (I have to close). That's about 14 hours. Don't worry, though. You don't care anyway. No one does. All they care about is themselves.
I felt like crying earlier. As I was driving home. I didn't though. What is the point to cry when it doesn't help? What is the point of anything if it doesn't help. Sure, the tears on my eyes would feel like something physically showing my mental feeling - but the tears would be wiped away or would dry and evaporate into the air and condense in the sky into part of a cloud and eventually fall to the earth again in the form of rain and stain someone's jacket or fall dully on a sidewalk only to be picked back up and condense into the air again and repeat the cycle. The meaning and emotional feeling of those tears would then be long forgotten. It would only be water, fluid and wettening.
I figure people do a lot of other things to get away from everything, too. Drugs? Drugs are a lot worse. They're addictive and some kill brain cells (alcohol does), and some kill who you are. And why do people do these things? Release. But it is only momentary release. It doesn't last forever. So they have to abuse the drugs again and get in the state where they no longer feel completely and fully here. Only to revert back to this mundane existence to complete the same cycle.
Everything's such a cycle.
I should go to sleep, but I keep thinking about tomorrow. I shouldn't be complaining, though. And I'm really not. It's just going to suck, is all. Today, working 6 or so hours, that sucked by itself. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks. And, 50 or 60 more years of this, too.
Something console me. Make this seem all worth it when it's not. Make me disappear.
Sleep seems the answer. The only.
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