crazy with the cheese wiz
birthday weekend XD
started out with a fizzle. first of all, work when i didnt have to for someone who already "owes" me.
whatever, i love my job, so thats not the big problem. the problem is i was reading after i got out of work waiting for abby so we could go to lunch, and then i started thinking, and it wasnt fun thinking either. i actually recorded my own voice so i could catch exactly what was going on in my head instead of trying to think about it later. Your probably gunna think i'm a complete psyco, but i know at least three people who love me for that exact reason. keep in mind, some of this was recorded in front of B to the N:
start recording
::dead air:: why cant the words come out? i've got a million thoughts in my head, and i finally found a way to remember all the crazy shit that goes on in hear, and now i can't think of anyhting to say
stop
start
a yuppie looking 20 something just pulled up in front of me, his speakers booming whatever is on that rap station everyone listens to. He's got one of those nuevo avalanche wanna be hummer thingys. Of course he pulls up right next to the sidewalk, where as it took me 10 minutes to get a spot all the way in the back. and i wonder if life is always like that for a rich white kid. His rims are fucking blinding me. What would it be like to trade places with him? or any of these other people walking by me? Its not that i hate my life, no not at all, i just hate what i'm not getting from it.
stop
start
even as i sit hear i'm making fun of myself. i mean how pretentious is it to go and record yourself just to hear your own thoughts. seriously, how interesting can anything i have to say possibly be. why do i think my thoughts make any difference to anybody else, i mean, they don't even make a difference to me. what the hell am i talking about? i dont even know. Sometimes i just think i have theese monumental ideas and thought paterns, but really its all jumbled up. and i just keep rambling on hoping that maybe this time i willl finally get this noble prize winning idea out of my head. Or worse, it will become blatantly obvious that the only thing i'll ever be good at is making people's lattes. and even then people want genius. listen, i work at fucking starbucks, i'm not a rocket scientist. gimme a break
stop
start
why am i even so happy with my life? is that normal? shouldn't i want more than this? i mean, I'm 22 years old, i have maybe two full semesters under my belt and i'm still living at home. I love my job. I'm a barista at starbucks and i love my fucking job. i am happy being completely complacent right now. and now i'm in the wrong lane of traffic because i am trying to........... chronologicalize? thats not the word i'm looking for. what does that even mean? thats not a word. jesus, what am i saying? why am i still talking?
stop
start
::more frantic:: Is it such a bad thing to be satisfied? i mean, i'm happy. I love my peice of shit car. I love my life that is going absoltely no where right now. is that a good thing or a bad thing. i don't really know. I mean, i know i don't want to be where i am forever, i know i want to fall in love, get married, have kids, the whole shabang. But this isn't really that bad. i see people come in all the time with the fake boobs, fake asses, fake faces, fake lives, fake fake fake fake. They try to make them selves into something else and they, they.. they want to die! i Don't want to die any time soon. I enjoy living. i enjoy the act of breathing, i love the trees, and the sky, and the little lizards that scamper about. why am i still talking?
end
on a seperate, more bitchy note: listen, you're not jesus, your not the fucking savior. stop trying to save other people, you cant even save yourself. work on you first, because thats the biggest problem. find a way to be happy with whatever it is that you have now and stop trying to live in the past. Stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself. Bad shit happens to good people, and it sucks. life goes on, the world keeps spinning. Your missing out.
started out with a fizzle. first of all, work when i didnt have to for someone who already "owes" me.
whatever, i love my job, so thats not the big problem. the problem is i was reading after i got out of work waiting for abby so we could go to lunch, and then i started thinking, and it wasnt fun thinking either. i actually recorded my own voice so i could catch exactly what was going on in my head instead of trying to think about it later. Your probably gunna think i'm a complete psyco, but i know at least three people who love me for that exact reason. keep in mind, some of this was recorded in front of B to the N:
start recording
::dead air:: why cant the words come out? i've got a million thoughts in my head, and i finally found a way to remember all the crazy shit that goes on in hear, and now i can't think of anyhting to say
stop
start
a yuppie looking 20 something just pulled up in front of me, his speakers booming whatever is on that rap station everyone listens to. He's got one of those nuevo avalanche wanna be hummer thingys. Of course he pulls up right next to the sidewalk, where as it took me 10 minutes to get a spot all the way in the back. and i wonder if life is always like that for a rich white kid. His rims are fucking blinding me. What would it be like to trade places with him? or any of these other people walking by me? Its not that i hate my life, no not at all, i just hate what i'm not getting from it.
stop
start
even as i sit hear i'm making fun of myself. i mean how pretentious is it to go and record yourself just to hear your own thoughts. seriously, how interesting can anything i have to say possibly be. why do i think my thoughts make any difference to anybody else, i mean, they don't even make a difference to me. what the hell am i talking about? i dont even know. Sometimes i just think i have theese monumental ideas and thought paterns, but really its all jumbled up. and i just keep rambling on hoping that maybe this time i willl finally get this noble prize winning idea out of my head. Or worse, it will become blatantly obvious that the only thing i'll ever be good at is making people's lattes. and even then people want genius. listen, i work at fucking starbucks, i'm not a rocket scientist. gimme a break
stop
start
why am i even so happy with my life? is that normal? shouldn't i want more than this? i mean, I'm 22 years old, i have maybe two full semesters under my belt and i'm still living at home. I love my job. I'm a barista at starbucks and i love my fucking job. i am happy being completely complacent right now. and now i'm in the wrong lane of traffic because i am trying to........... chronologicalize? thats not the word i'm looking for. what does that even mean? thats not a word. jesus, what am i saying? why am i still talking?
stop
start
::more frantic:: Is it such a bad thing to be satisfied? i mean, i'm happy. I love my peice of shit car. I love my life that is going absoltely no where right now. is that a good thing or a bad thing. i don't really know. I mean, i know i don't want to be where i am forever, i know i want to fall in love, get married, have kids, the whole shabang. But this isn't really that bad. i see people come in all the time with the fake boobs, fake asses, fake faces, fake lives, fake fake fake fake. They try to make them selves into something else and they, they.. they want to die! i Don't want to die any time soon. I enjoy living. i enjoy the act of breathing, i love the trees, and the sky, and the little lizards that scamper about. why am i still talking?
end
on a seperate, more bitchy note: listen, you're not jesus, your not the fucking savior. stop trying to save other people, you cant even save yourself. work on you first, because thats the biggest problem. find a way to be happy with whatever it is that you have now and stop trying to live in the past. Stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself. Bad shit happens to good people, and it sucks. life goes on, the world keeps spinning. Your missing out.