Have you ever had one of those days, that turns into one of those weeks, that turns into this endless span of time, which makes you squeeze your eyes in hopes that those burning tears won't squeeze themselves out... not this time, not this time. You grasped onto something so futile, yet this little spark of hope, that "things would only get better," and so far that has proved depressingly wrong. Little tiny fur faces peer up at you and wish that with cuddling cuteness and a swish of a tail they can wisk all your worries away. But not today.
You rush downstairs to open the door for the postlady, who holds in her hands the pants that you ordered, hoping they would come in for Friday night, but of course they didnt. You try them on and they are too big. A waste of $135 you didn't have and goddammit do they look ridiculous. They might have been the only happy thing today. Oversleeping has become a ritual, body tired from being pushed and pushed, fueled only by a couple gray pills that make your heart want to burst and make every wrong turn seem so dramatic. Legs shaking, body trembling, want to just lay down and sob.
So many due dates you can't fit them all on the little squares on the calendar. Nowhere to write them on the "Things to Do" board that hangs, untouched, above the desk. The list grows and grows, and nothing gets checked, accomplished, erased. You don't know where to start, it just all seems so futile, too fargone, hopeless.
You hear yourself utter "What else can possibly go wrong" but forgot to knock on wood... those precious 2 hours reserved for paying endless parking tickets and last-minute cramming are now spent on the phone with the bank, who fucked you again, this time not even your fault. Now you sit there, can't bring yourself to open the book, pick up the pencil, start the work. No one to talk to. Sit here alone, typing, rambling, forcing back a lump in the throat, trying really hard not to throw up.
It gets better, they say. But they don't know. "They" have their projects finished. "They" know what chapter we're on. I don't even know where my fucking book is. It's been so long since I opened it. Disappointing looks from those who admired, and praised. A shrug, a sigh, a sob.
What happened to that day off, where you hang Christmas lights around your room, and decorate a tree, and bake cookies. There is no day off, no tree, no where to plug the lights, no oven in which to bake the cookies. No walking through the mall soaking in the Christmas-season mall-ness that I used to live for. Hands filled with bags. No it will be Christmas Eve before I can do that. Let everyone down. Can't get the shifts picked up, or the projects done, or the overdue things turned in. Damn car won't start again and no time, no money to fix it. The dent that is a reminder of another bad week i had still there, no money to fix that either.
Tired, so tired.
Throwing in the towel seems so easy. Who would notice? Everyone of course. They only notice when I fail, when i give up, when i disappoint them. And everything i do is wrong.. is not "up to par"... unacceptable. I want to run away from it all... no longer motivated to finish what i started. It seems like none of this is going anywhere, and with each day, i feel older, more worn at the edges, less accomplished.
Eat another pill, hope for that little extra energy to make it another hour, hoping i can force myself to get my mind on these pages, and off all my problems. Wish i could disappear into that simple world i used to know, where the littlest things could make me smile. Now it seems to take so much more than that. Getting older i've only gotten good at faking smiles, kissing asses, and accepting failure. What has gone so terribly, terribly wrong?
Can't even write like i used to. There are no stanzas, no punchlines, no poetry. Just thoughts that i can't even go back and proofread because reading them just depresses me more. Can't find the things which used to make me happy. Getting too good at being handed all the leftovers.
Can't even cry anymore. My stomach aches, my eyes are swollen, my body is weak. There's no reason for me to curl my hair, to put on lipstick, to shimmer my eyelids with the glitter i so love. No reason to do any of this... no one left to "wow" or impress or satisfy.
My inspiration is gone.
I cant even end this. It seems it will never end.
You rush downstairs to open the door for the postlady, who holds in her hands the pants that you ordered, hoping they would come in for Friday night, but of course they didnt. You try them on and they are too big. A waste of $135 you didn't have and goddammit do they look ridiculous. They might have been the only happy thing today. Oversleeping has become a ritual, body tired from being pushed and pushed, fueled only by a couple gray pills that make your heart want to burst and make every wrong turn seem so dramatic. Legs shaking, body trembling, want to just lay down and sob.
So many due dates you can't fit them all on the little squares on the calendar. Nowhere to write them on the "Things to Do" board that hangs, untouched, above the desk. The list grows and grows, and nothing gets checked, accomplished, erased. You don't know where to start, it just all seems so futile, too fargone, hopeless.
You hear yourself utter "What else can possibly go wrong" but forgot to knock on wood... those precious 2 hours reserved for paying endless parking tickets and last-minute cramming are now spent on the phone with the bank, who fucked you again, this time not even your fault. Now you sit there, can't bring yourself to open the book, pick up the pencil, start the work. No one to talk to. Sit here alone, typing, rambling, forcing back a lump in the throat, trying really hard not to throw up.
It gets better, they say. But they don't know. "They" have their projects finished. "They" know what chapter we're on. I don't even know where my fucking book is. It's been so long since I opened it. Disappointing looks from those who admired, and praised. A shrug, a sigh, a sob.
What happened to that day off, where you hang Christmas lights around your room, and decorate a tree, and bake cookies. There is no day off, no tree, no where to plug the lights, no oven in which to bake the cookies. No walking through the mall soaking in the Christmas-season mall-ness that I used to live for. Hands filled with bags. No it will be Christmas Eve before I can do that. Let everyone down. Can't get the shifts picked up, or the projects done, or the overdue things turned in. Damn car won't start again and no time, no money to fix it. The dent that is a reminder of another bad week i had still there, no money to fix that either.
Tired, so tired.
Throwing in the towel seems so easy. Who would notice? Everyone of course. They only notice when I fail, when i give up, when i disappoint them. And everything i do is wrong.. is not "up to par"... unacceptable. I want to run away from it all... no longer motivated to finish what i started. It seems like none of this is going anywhere, and with each day, i feel older, more worn at the edges, less accomplished.
Eat another pill, hope for that little extra energy to make it another hour, hoping i can force myself to get my mind on these pages, and off all my problems. Wish i could disappear into that simple world i used to know, where the littlest things could make me smile. Now it seems to take so much more than that. Getting older i've only gotten good at faking smiles, kissing asses, and accepting failure. What has gone so terribly, terribly wrong?
Can't even write like i used to. There are no stanzas, no punchlines, no poetry. Just thoughts that i can't even go back and proofread because reading them just depresses me more. Can't find the things which used to make me happy. Getting too good at being handed all the leftovers.
Can't even cry anymore. My stomach aches, my eyes are swollen, my body is weak. There's no reason for me to curl my hair, to put on lipstick, to shimmer my eyelids with the glitter i so love. No reason to do any of this... no one left to "wow" or impress or satisfy.
My inspiration is gone.
I cant even end this. It seems it will never end.
and you are cute too!!
