things feel fragile, more taut and frayed, than usual. i need to do things that i'm not doing. everywhere, there are post-it-note/envelope/receipt scraps of paper covered in scrawled to-do-lists that i just NEVER DO. its getting unreasonable. the things weigh on me. deadlines, due dates, impending consequences. for fucks sake. what am i doing?
sudden moments of sunlight flooding in through the basement window at work are shockingly important to my mood. listening to gnarls barkley and joking around with the kids in the next room. the office smelling like pizza. this life is making less and less sense. i am squinting into the possible futures, hoping there is some clarity somewhere.
i'm better at this life than a lot of you are though. its surprising, but true.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Thursday, July 30, 2009
in thirty minutes, i'll start my vacation, ten days off, motherfuckers. i win.
the basement of work is crazy hot, so i drink cold water and type case notes 'til my fingers get sore.
i feel disconnected and crushed out and sort of psyched in a sad sort of way.
regardless, i'm going to go see a sweet band play tonight, if i can get out of here on time.
and i'm going to make a rhubarb pie tomorrow.
and i'm going to make a real mix Tape.
and i'm going to learn to be more awesome in slow, slow ways.
also, finish reading all the books i have started. I'm fucking ridiculous. (who reads a russian novel, a book about the minds of ravens, a tom robbins book about the stock market, a strange science fiction novel called by american gods, a thomas hardy book that's an old, old romance that i don't really understand the attraction to....all at the same time?)
new tattoos make my skin happy.
you can't catch me. i win every race.
the basement of work is crazy hot, so i drink cold water and type case notes 'til my fingers get sore.
i feel disconnected and crushed out and sort of psyched in a sad sort of way.
regardless, i'm going to go see a sweet band play tonight, if i can get out of here on time.
and i'm going to make a rhubarb pie tomorrow.
and i'm going to make a real mix Tape.
and i'm going to learn to be more awesome in slow, slow ways.
also, finish reading all the books i have started. I'm fucking ridiculous. (who reads a russian novel, a book about the minds of ravens, a tom robbins book about the stock market, a strange science fiction novel called by american gods, a thomas hardy book that's an old, old romance that i don't really understand the attraction to....all at the same time?)
new tattoos make my skin happy.
you can't catch me. i win every race.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
when its sunny people comment on the weather all the time. sun equals beautiful, it seems. tom the cook stands in the parking lot next door that is full of signs telling us not to park there and he smokes a cigarette and squints when he waves at people and says "it's so beautiful"....
thursday means the weekend happens in just a couple hours.
I'm obsessed with new music that i play on repeat, loud, bass coming through the floor boards. the lyrics fucking kill me in the best of ways. i'm in love with how i feel when i listen to him sing.
lately, i'm missing something critical but i can't place what it is...this cd, burritos from that new taqueria we found and this don delillo book loaned to me by a pretty boy are helping out though.
it needs to be sunny this weekend. i wanna sit in the yard and sip sun tea.
who wants to buy me a lawn mower?
thursday means the weekend happens in just a couple hours.
I'm obsessed with new music that i play on repeat, loud, bass coming through the floor boards. the lyrics fucking kill me in the best of ways. i'm in love with how i feel when i listen to him sing.
lately, i'm missing something critical but i can't place what it is...this cd, burritos from that new taqueria we found and this don delillo book loaned to me by a pretty boy are helping out though.
it needs to be sunny this weekend. i wanna sit in the yard and sip sun tea.
who wants to buy me a lawn mower?
Thursday, July 10, 2008
i feel beat up
My eyes feel swollen, I'm so tired today but my racing across the Burnside Bridge, I felt fast for the first time in a while. The sun blows so hot and the wind makes the back of my shirt flutter.
Sometimes I hate people for such stupid, complicated things. I don't know whats wrong with me.
Sometimes I hate people for such stupid, complicated things. I don't know whats wrong with me.
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