streaming live from my head
i usually turn inward on myself when i get hurt.
i've kind of discovered this about myself recently.
don't know what to do about my life. i still feel unsettled about the way i live. maybe that's how it's supposed to be. how everyone else feels. i don't know.
at work, my feet hurt. i stand at the cash register, looking outside, waiting for a foot to make its first step past the black door frame so i can artificially plaster a smile across my face and ask how they are doing today, when really i don't give two shits and would rather hibernate in my room where my feet are safe from the stupid tiled floor i have to sweep and mop every day before leaving.
it's just that i've always been horrible at playing the waiting game. when i was younger a dozen christmases ago, i remember buying my mom some crappy shirt for a handful of bills at kohl's. i made her open it early because the suspense just drove me crazy.
waiting is not my forte.
sometimes i think the smell of coffee will embed itself permanently in my hair and on my body.
i used to like the smell of coffee.
i need the warmth of another body.
i feel desperately alone.
does everyone get like this?
i don't trust anyone.
sometimes i want to just go somewhere where nobody knows me and start all over.
sometimes i want to be a hermit.
but that would just make matters worse.
sometimes i linger on one particular thought too long and i can't put into words what i'm thinking.
like death.
thinking about it for more than just one second makes me terribly afraid.
i've kind of discovered this about myself recently.
don't know what to do about my life. i still feel unsettled about the way i live. maybe that's how it's supposed to be. how everyone else feels. i don't know.
at work, my feet hurt. i stand at the cash register, looking outside, waiting for a foot to make its first step past the black door frame so i can artificially plaster a smile across my face and ask how they are doing today, when really i don't give two shits and would rather hibernate in my room where my feet are safe from the stupid tiled floor i have to sweep and mop every day before leaving.
it's just that i've always been horrible at playing the waiting game. when i was younger a dozen christmases ago, i remember buying my mom some crappy shirt for a handful of bills at kohl's. i made her open it early because the suspense just drove me crazy.
waiting is not my forte.
sometimes i think the smell of coffee will embed itself permanently in my hair and on my body.
i used to like the smell of coffee.
i need the warmth of another body.
i feel desperately alone.
does everyone get like this?
i don't trust anyone.
sometimes i want to just go somewhere where nobody knows me and start all over.
sometimes i want to be a hermit.
but that would just make matters worse.
sometimes i linger on one particular thought too long and i can't put into words what i'm thinking.
like death.
thinking about it for more than just one second makes me terribly afraid.