I have a decent job, and I am grateful...but when I put on my tie in the morning I cant help but sometimes feel like a fraud...an imposter. I slither into my costume like a reptile to join all the other reptiles in this real life game of mortal kombat...without the weed and potato chips.
I feel like I am becoming my role/title....soul sucking office zombie living off the commissions of products that you cant even physically touch... Waiting for a baby boomer to retire so that I can replace them in that quest for upper mobility and higher taxes. I have become the enemy that I loathed during my teen years. I used to laugh at guys like me. "Yeah, whats wrong with that guy? Looks like he's got a stick shoved up his *s s" If I had a conversation with my old self and my current self, my old self would probably throw a che guevara book at my face. But then reality sets in. Obligations and deadlines overflowing at the rim. Angry clients...in-laws...Co workers that don't shut up.
When I was 23 years old (circa 2008), I used to work as a barista. We had a pretty good crew. After work we would smoke a few joints and crack jokes about asshat clients. The kinds of people that would shit on us for not getting there milk at a certain temperature. Ironically, I have become one of those people... Slowly. So kids, when you see someone like me on the skytrain....just remember...I too once had a soul.
I often catch myself asking this question. Mentally scrambling to remember what I was last thinking about before being distracted. At least that’s what I thought. Today I realized I needed to answer myself. “I am here”. But where is here? Somewhere that isn’t mine. If this space isn’t mine then where do I go? I am here but I don’t belong here. Where do I belong?
Sometimes I wait till my husband is asleep to please myself and get a good deep sleep. It’s not that I don’t love him with all my heart but he takes awhile to come.
They say you see the whole of your life replay before your eyes. I hope it's true. You see, when I die, I want to relive my youth, remember all of the things I've forgotten, and see again all the people I've ever loved in my life.
Ever since I was twenty or so I gave had a recurring dream about my death. As I age occasionally the dream recurs and each time I get a little more information, the dream is slightly longer. Now I get around a minute or so leading up to my death.
I was invited to a Christmas party next weekend and I just can't. I don't understand how others can. It's not that I'm anti-joy or even anti-social I just am weighed down by all the shit going on and I feel it all so deeply. I weep so easily. My relationships are suffering and I feel mostly alone.
I can’t move on from people, they can screw me over, steal from me, or use me and still I just want to run to them and be held and feel better. I can try to move on for months on end but the feelings always there somewhere inside and I don’t understand why, someone with any dignity would never talk to these people again, and even if I refuse to let myself talk to them I know if they reached out I’d probably go running right into the fire to get burned once again
has given me a mental disorder. I sit for hours and look through my hair for split ends and pull them off until my neck and back ache and my mind goes completely numb. I can’t stop.
Being a dog owner,I of course take my dog on many walks. My Pug is 11. People always stop to say hi,ask how old he is etc. which is all fine. The part I don’t get is “oh,mine lived to 10,mine lived to 12,etc,etc.
Yes,that’s what I want to hear on my walk. ...how my beautiful dog only has a year or two left. Seriously.
Any time I dream about my boyfriend it's super stressful but when I dream about one of my exes, it's always very sweet and positive.