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im ranting now. i live in this house where i rent a room. the woman who owns my house decided to sell it. i still have a bit of anger about the fact that she didn’t really tell me she was going to do it. i mean i’m sure she was planning on it eventually, but i found out because i saw her looking at houses and asked her what she was doing and she told me she was thinking about selling the house.

so now we are in this phase where i have to keep my room clean. basically i have to live as if i don’t live in the room/bathroom/house. then there are times when im not allowed to come home because someone is seeing the house. it’s not that those 30 min are going to end my life. it’s that i all of a sudden can’t go home and lie down. it’s taking away that comfort of a home. which is a total first world problem, but is also triggering so much else.

so im trying to move. already a difficult process i think. i got paired up with this girl. what happened was i posted myself on a roommate website and she saw my face and recognized me from a coworker’s party. she texted me and we started looking at rooms together. unfortunately she wants to keep living in the downtown area which is more expensive than the area i wanted to live in. she also is a bit … she is very on top of things. she has an excel sheet that keeps track of all the apartments we’ve looked at, she has notes from all the phone calls she’s made, when we saw places in person she was definitely the leader and she was very on point in asking the necessary questions. i’ve just found that she also doesn’t have much empathy. she operates pretty much entirely on logic. she wasn’t able to put herself in my shoes or in the shoes of a person who had to take a loft instead of a bedroom. she was fighting back saying that a person should be more than happy to get in a loft in such a nice apartment. regardless, it just reminded me that i don’t know her. and i’m about to commit to living with her. which is fine but not ideal. again a first world problem.

so i feel trapped. i feel like if i back out of living with her now it will be annoying for both of us. but quite honestly thinking about moving makes me realize that i don’t want to move. i really don’t want to pack all my things. resettle. move my bed. i don’t want to have to deal with that.

and then speaking of things i don’t want to deal with. work is pretty bad. it’s just a whole day full of shit i don’t want to deal with. i mean is everyone’s work truly like this?? I was talking to one person at work today and she jokingly said “wow, you have such a millennial bad attitude” … and i laughed it off and told her i try my best to have a good attitude, but sometimes the bullshit burns through the good and reveals a bitter, jaded underbelly. but yeah i’m sure she has a point. im sure all of this is me not having a lot of grit. me not understanding how to have endurance and put up with struggle. put up with unknowns, bullshit, tension, and transition. but also am i allowed to say that this sucks? am i allowed to say that i don’t want to be here, or maybe more accurately that i don’t want to stay?? i think it’s one thing to complain about where you are. i think it’s another thing to feel a depth, a never ending tunnel, a darkness into an abyss when it comes to thinking about where you are going. and i quite honestly feel like i’m continuing to walk down this path that leads to nowhere, that keeps getting darker, that keeps me eating myself alive.

so then at what point am i having a bad attitude? and at what point am i just a fool who doesn’t know how to change my circumstances and dig out of this hell?

and i’m scared. that im just running away again. that my only consistent move has been to run away from things i don’t like. from things that have been difficult. that’s really the core of why i think about death so much. because death to me in those instances is like a game over in a video game. who cares if you die at least you aren’t in the same place as you were. at least you get to start over again. except i wouldn’t start over. but that’s the thing the thought of ending these small issues feels more comforting to me then tackling them. which is ridiculous. i know. you don’t need to lecture me. why do you think i’m writing this? it’s because i can’t just die. but also i’m writing this to admit that i wish i could.

when i work here. and im feeling good. or im feeling something motivating me. it’s because im motivated to make a change in this place. im motivated that as much as i want to change the world i need to change the world im actually participating in right now. and i need to chip away at what that means right here. because if i can’t do it here and now then why in the world would i be able to do it somewhere else. yes maybe a different wall or a different mountain is where i’ll ultimately find my potential, but at least in some capacity, maybe it’s minuscule, but in some capacity i can grow here too.

the problem is that as much as this place and these people are the things i feel motivated to change. they are the exact thing that completely overwhelms me. i get so annoyed and then so angry about the situations that happen at work. i get so bogged down by bad/outdated systems or by the blame culture or by the monotony or the meaninglessness. and then i get so frustrated by incompetency in people. people who’ve been doing the same thing the same way for 25 years, people who aren’t motivated to run hard and run fast. why should i give my best when it’s being thrown into the wind like this? and then i get really mad at myself too. because my work is not something i’m proud of here. i feel like i was thrown into another foreign country, and as much as i’ve done to assimilate, sometimes the papers that get sent back to my desk all crossed out and edited for my silly spelling errors or mathematical mistakes, sometimes those hurt the most, are the most demotivating.

so then sometimes i just sit here and say fuck it all. and i want to be okay with that. i want to be okay with this “no prospect” life i’m leading right now. it’s just that the reason why i’m not is because i don’t think i can ever be okay without purpose.

so im just here. ranting. complaining. trying to make sense of what can trigger tears into my eyes. what has caused me to feel so down. and yet why i also keep coming back. mind you, not a “come back” i see very little if any redemption here. just coming back. like the way you get in your car and start driving and before you know it you’re at work and you didn’t even remember which way you turned to get there because you’re just at the same place in the same routine as you always will be until you’re not. and right now that’s all i have. and it’s driving me insane.

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i’m just going to start typing. start writing. without regard to this monitoring work computer that has become my life. don’t even remember how to use macs anymore. give me that pc life.

every day has been strung together so that i could be convinced ive just been experiencing one long day. today, i sit here frustrated at all the little tasks and all the little steps and all the interactions that are involved in all those parts. and for what. for something im not sure i care to fight for. something im not sure why it needs to happen in the first place. he asks for passion. i have just barely enough motivation to scrape by what you need. to give you the facade of a dream. to scribble words on these postit notes and numbers in the cell that formulate the donuts that i don’t care to eat.

it’s 6:41 and the office is empty. and im sitting here with enough work i could stay here until the fluorescent lights sleep for the night and flicker back on. it’s not that i hate it. it’s that i don’t love it. it’s that some moments are fun. care-free. like this is a team or a rag-tag family. but some days, like today, are hard to swallow. in fact it’s hard to think at all. my brain is stiff. i wouldn’t be surprised if brain lobes were squeezing out of my ears.

i wouldn’t be surprised if i stay here forever. because im being lulled into sleep. im being hardened and one could call it trained but i call it grinded into a system. but i’m pretty sure it would be the same no matter where i went.

so here i am. im not unhappy. but i guess im not content. and i guess im not alive with excitement. im just moving. taking steps. typing words. writing plans. answering emails. being called out on my mistakes. hearing people’s problems. all the while it feels like im stuck in a time where the world moves on without me.

i just want to know my purpose. i just want to find what i was made for. i want to find people who inspire me to strive for that. is it too much to ask for every day to be filled to the brim? to every day to wake up knowing you’re doing what you were always supposed to do. is it too much to ask. to feel fulfilled.

it’s interesting because i don’t feel like i’m rotting here. i feel like when i was in college i could let myself rot. but here i have to keep moving. i have to wake up i have to go i have to turn in something i have to keep the machine churning. so it’s been good. learning how to build faithfulness.

im rambling, but im trying to say something. im trying to pin point this something in me that has been calling. i havent been able to access that data. it’s like it’s under four feet of rock that has now calloused over the four months of this time. it’s a weird feeling to feel that dead inside. because sometimes when i wish to run away from life it’s an intense feeling that stops me from doing life. but here i am deadened to my own feelings and so i have been able to just keep doing life.

yeah. now i’m just not making sense. but that’s what you get. at the end of another day of the longest day of my life.

pink bleak aura
daily she sings
remind me blessing
of paradoxical things
roaming find lonely
ignore console friend
destitute room mating
(with the)
ever dreaded end
stuffed objective treasures
provoking loved endeavors
such useless objects
such meaningless dreams
throat scratched chokes
over thrown truth
tonight she dies
tomorrow she cries
yesterday she emerged
brand spanking new

there is ugliness pouring out of me. i want to say every curse word i know. i want to put all kinds of junk in my body. until i can’t feel hunger. or sadness. or pain.

i want emotional novacaine. the strong shit that loops out my brain. because in reality i can’t face life. i can’t understand myself. with all the blessings i get. i’ve spoiled my potential. im upset with the loss that each day takes away. a little bit more of who i thought i was. and returns a warped version of who i can be. all twisted by who i should be. i’ve out measured myself. in comparison to the giants. that are comparing themselves to giants. that aren’t comparing themselves to any standard but simply becoming the standard. by being themselves. growing giants. so far from my shrinking identity.

there is a life worth living. i’m just not sure about mine. i’m not sure about every grain of thought that runs through my mind and collects itself like plaque until it reeks of infection. wounds dripping blood because the scabs ripped off them. i’m not sure who my real friend is. i’m upset that i have to listen to all of your confessions. and that the people surrounding me are just as messed up and regressing.

i hate this place i’m in. it’s like a pit where the only way out is money even though money demands your joy and years of your life. yet we trade away joy for something that takes away life. because that seems to be the only way out of this shit hole. people revere it. even if you believe in God you need it. we steal it. rules melt, fearless.

i’m sorry mom that i’m not who you want me to be. i’m sorry that i can’t be free from these uglies. i’m sorry that i hurt you and disappoint you. i don’t want to be this way, but i guess the fact that i am suggests otherwise. i have no words to encourage myself. and i don’t want to hear yours either. so i’m in a never ending cycle, with the only guarantee of my impending doom. please please someone breakthrough. but for now, i’ll be here. not listening to anything but the ghost of my numbed out body cells decaying.

 

 

 

i love feeling full
sitting across from you
sharing stories until
i can’t help smile
this could take a while
you fill me up
and from you my words pour out
because empty is only an opportunity
for so meaningful
watch my hands collide
in circling design
happiness is cheap
when you are this full

i forgot what it was like to write
i forgot what it was like to prepare
i forgot how heavy sadness smacks my face
i’m upside down, wrestling despair
i forgot how hard it was to ignore lies
when lies disguise the truth
like that time my tears fell over the edge of the window sill up on the roof
i’ve forgotten that summer is just sand escaping time
with few fleeting joys until it’s just back at the grind
and i’ve forgotten over and over and over and over again
what i’m doing here and when this all will end.

 

i pushed it off
as far as it goes
so now i face the edge
boundaries overthrown
the crumbling
i feel it underneath
the boiling
of my anxiety
i feel it, all consuming me
eating at my brain and tendons
paralyzing all thought, numbing motivational presence
for the past two weeks
whenever i gathered myself to fight
all i am withers
weakness, tortured and contrite
all i can see are the things i can’t do
i’m afraid of the truth
that i don’t have enough time left
that i’m going to lose
and that i put myself here
because i am an undisciplined fool
so help me God
i’m nothing without You
i am going to fail
i’m completely screwed
but if i have to go through this fire
and fall off this cliff
catch me
ignite me
re-birth me into something more
someone worth more
someone who follows through