Friday, August 12, 2011

It's tough being...

9:53 p.m.: I have been awake since eight o'clock yesterday morning. As a recent college graduate I find myself in a spinning world of sorts. Left in an economy run by the next "biggest loser" (and I don't mean of any weight) I have no career, money, food, or means to change it. When I am not pounding magic into the ground of Anaheim I am usually found here, living in my parents house on the brink of insanity attempting to find that direction we were pushed out of college's safe-house and in to.

I realized how depressing it was when I could not fall asleep for a 5 a.m wake up.

My small excuse for living quarters is a scene directly out of the hoarding closet of Sherlock Holmes. Clothes, clean and dirty, are placed in their respective places among a chest and some closet space. I have books on three masses of shelving that I wouldn't even dare to count, most of them open to recent readings. Others sit on lay away if I need a good pick-me-up. Those books I usually keep close to the whiskey.

I have become obsessed with the coming of Fall. I blame this obsession on the boredom and depravity of action my life has collected. It also takes my mind off of the constant strain of attempting to organize my thoughts into enough plotted paragraphs that any half-wit, tan model would even be interested in reading. Now that I mention that, better shoot for at least sorority girls, their vocabulary and ability to retain information stands a tidge higher.

Anyway, between thinking about fall fashion and dreading my awaited work day I missed sleep all together. Instead I found myself slapped together at 5:15 with a scruffed side braid and a wrinkled uniform as I tried to make sense of the bagel and tofu-cream coming together to form breakfast.

My job comes hard enough when I am well rested and fed, let alone sleep deprived, bitter and in no mood to answer room 5423's complaint of there not being scented soap to freshen up with.

So I sat, in my brown cubicle waiting for the glamorous to awaken and cause my blackberry to scream with their inept demands and idiotic questioning. My coworkers, as usual, filled the room with their oddities and gossip, things I stopped attempting to befriend months ago. I sat there for nine hours journaling the random babble throughout my day in hopes of one day turning it all into a comedy the rest of the world can laugh with me at.

Until that day it is but me alone to suffer.

How is it people find fame? they are born with it, get naked for it, sell themselves for it, and on that rare occasion are discovered for it. Well since I have some form of intellect and dignity in the world I shall wait for the latter of the four.

For now I shall read a book, maybe watch a show and contemplate life as I most always do until I fall asleep and escape for a time being.

It'snow 10:18 p.m.

Pour myself a drink.

Lay my head in a book.

And think.

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