Crunchy · Tako

Ah yesterday, another glorious day full of suck.
Before my break I had.
24+ calls (the average for a normal day is 30 total)
no mind you those are just calls you actually dispatch. Not to mention all the other call you deal with, like lost and found crap, wrong numbers, explaining where the fucking pillows ares for the 4738979347972 time even though there are instructions....
Anywho...24+ calls
Yelled at by a house keeper
hung up on
Insulted by 2 guests
and my ass cramped up woo!
I keep telling my self to be patient.
I'll live, I'll transfer, and things will get better.
Maybe I'll actually see the people I know, and like.
Maybe I'll actually get to see DJ out side of sleeping.
I find myself staring after crazy teens.
With their crazy hair and "abnormal" clothes.
I miss being able to express myself in that way.
For one, it kept unwanted attention away.
Especially of the male variety.
Every time a male, other then DJ, calls me beautiful,pretty, or sexy, or wtf ever,
It makes me sick, and uneasy. I don't want them looking at me.
I don't like looking approachable.
Of course people have always gravitated towards me.
I don't know why, I should really just get over it.
I'll never be left alone when I want to be,
and I'll never have anyone around when I don't want to be.
On the brighter side. A friend at work bought me two more Full Moon volumes.
Hurray! And I found a t-shirt I've been wanting for almost a year now. I got it for 5 bucks, perfect condition.
I finally scheduled a massage session. He doesn't do deep tissue *tear* but said he'd be more then happy to apply firm pressure to his swedish technique. Hurray!I'm looking forward to sleeping without this horrid horrid pain.
I need to get my taxes done, so I can purchase a car.
There are tons of cars thats I've always wanted for sale...ALL the time.
Usually by little old ladies who didn't know what they have.
I'm debating between an MR2 or just sticking it out and waiting for an NX.
I have time to think about it.
I can't wait to get a car so I can gtfo out of this warped bubble world I live in.
Sept needs to get here now. Yay Paris.

Ah life...and here we are again, only 22. Still drifting along in an oblivious state of life. Lost in the crowds of fake faces. Smiling smiles that don't belong to me. Finding it harder to play polite. I often wish I could sit with the caged bird and ask him why he sings. I would like to know. So much has changed and yet so much remains the same. I blame myself and no one else. I am responsible for my own life, my own dreams, why do I continue to neglect them?
I find my self digging deeper into a world of complications, trying to read a language I can barely grasp. I'm looking for something, though Im never sure what. Myself perhaps? That bright shiny thing that seems to get locked away so often. I'm afraid of so much, and tired of acting fearless. I tried, and now I'm exhausted, too tired to regenerate myself. I don't want to look past these walls, yet I crave nothing more then to taste that warmth again. I refuse to go back, but I'm losing sight of what it was I had done before. Left from right, my obligations are to myself only, that was my promise of 07, and I was happy, I was alive, I was expressive and free.
I don't want to be alone, I never want to feel empty again, I never want to drink from anything less then one's soul, but I'm trapped. I'm homeless and agitated, scratching at the confinements of my own mind. My sick fucked up mind. It will never let me rest, never let me settle. Don't let me crack, don't let me break, don't let me look back. Eyes forward, deep breathes, focus, relax, it will be ok. You're ok. You'll survive, you'll be stronger in the end. This is far from the worst.