A word to the wise is infuriating.
I have no idea if it's the medication or the fact that I'm living on my boyfriend's friend's futon who I don't really get along with or if life really is just this fucking boring, but I haven't felt this much like setting something on fire for pure aesthetics in a long time. I can't believe I've been working at GameStop for two fucking years and I still make barely over minimum wage and that I haven't been able to find another job that gives me hours and pays me more and isn't run by the fucking mafia or something. Everything is just the same shitty story every. single. day.
That, and I haven't had an interesting conversation with anyone in at least six months.
How is work? What are you doing now? You should find better work. Let's talk shit about getting out of here and then not do anything about it. Want to go drinking? Want to sit here and watch television for seventeen hours? Want to sit here and play 360 for seventeen hours?
That's all that's been up with me and the answer never changes, so please, for the love of sanity, don't ask me how I've been.
Want to sit here and mentally atrophy until you're just a vague outline of the person you used to be, someone who used to have ideas and capacity for creation and intellect? Fuck this.
That, and I haven't had an interesting conversation with anyone in at least six months.
How is work? What are you doing now? You should find better work. Let's talk shit about getting out of here and then not do anything about it. Want to go drinking? Want to sit here and watch television for seventeen hours? Want to sit here and play 360 for seventeen hours?
That's all that's been up with me and the answer never changes, so please, for the love of sanity, don't ask me how I've been.
Want to sit here and mentally atrophy until you're just a vague outline of the person you used to be, someone who used to have ideas and capacity for creation and intellect? Fuck this.