(no subject)
I hoped I would know what to say once I started typing, well I still don't have a clue. Maybe if I put some thoughts down I'll get an insight of what's going on in this head of mine. The summer is usually a very depressing time for me, too much time to think, to little time to do anything about it. I spent most of the beginning of summer working. I loved my job, God I loved my job. Mostly because I excelled at it with the most infinitesimal effort, maybe selling shit to people was a skill for some, for me it was just fun. My job ended and with it all the endless hours of suffering spent catering to ungrateful costumers. But to say the least I miss working 50 hrs a week and knowing that at the end of the two weeks I would have a juicy paycheck waiting for me. But as much as I wished to defame my job, it kept me alive. Especially after the countless days I had to call security on disgruntled costumers that later on became the subjects of our daily jokes. Knowing that I was financially dependent and that I had something to look forward to every day fulfilled my life. Now I'm basically unemployed and attending summer school. I sit at home most of the time watching minutes of my life get wasted behind the monitor of my computer, why? Because there's nothing better to do, I could find a hobby of some sort, but I rather sit there and dissipate. I found a job, one that does not pay as well as my other job and one that asks for more than I can currently give. If it wasn't for my few visits to Orlando this summer, this could be considered another fruitless existentialist soul searching summer. I keep thinking about the future and what I want to do with the rest of my life and I find myself drawing blanks every time. Because I still don't even know what I will do the next day, because I can't commit to anything. Because I've realized that whatever it is I want to do with my life doesn't involve just waking up one morning and realizing you've accomplished everything you wanted to accomplish overnight. So I sit here and contemplate my options, none of which give me pleasure and are bound to fall through anyway. Deep inside I can tell that I've finally accepted who I am and learned to love me for me, but it's still hard to justify what I want to those who have my best interest at heart, like say my parents. I received an e-mail today from my mother saying how disappointed she is at my choices and my career path, how she wishes there was a way she could take everything back and start from scratch with me. For an inspirational e-mail I have to say that shit was more depressing than anything. So I drank my sorrows tonight and probably will do the same tomorrow night and the next night until I can come to terms with the fact that my parents will never change. They've tried. Or at least I like to think they've had. And as usual I sat by my car when night fell upon me, smoking until I could erase the forlorn feeling that I've kept hidden for the past weeks. For one night I wish I could just cuddle up in my bed with someone who wants to hold me for the grace of having me in their arms rather than the prospect of getting in my pants.