Archive for the ‘creative’ Category
the bags beneath
“my eyes are slowing drifting
as exhaustion wears in
limbs loose and languishing
feeling the coldness of my skin
fatigue creeps up my thighs
as realization sets in
unable to heed the tired cries
from the mind within”
- what my brain is able to come up with on an hour of sleep to function for two days worth.
MSN nickname today: “the bags beneath my eyes don’t nearly compare to the thoughts behind them”
on a break
I’m on a 2 hour break between jobs right now and spending it in front of the computer updating this site instead of doing what I should actually be doing (RE: SLEEPING). But I am getting roughly 8 hours of shut eye a night so all is well in that department.
I finally got two days off in a row last week and spent them shopping and relaxing. It was good. I missed it, but in a way, I was happy to go back to work. No, I’m not a workaholic or psycho, but I don’t get paid to sit on my ass and do nothing. And as this summer has taught me and what my mother keeps harping about every time I get a second to myself – money is needed. And when I sit on my ass, it’s not being made. Because flowers are so important that she must spend God knows how much each week on soil yet I can’t buy a pair of jeans that will last me more than a week without getting a dirty look of some kind.
But enough bitching, I feel as though that’s all I’m doing these days. Not much else to do, I know, but sometimes I feel the need for a change.
Nothing has happened really over the past month. I mean, Jenna’s birthday was a blast, but I was pissed off that night and I had a headache the whole night so I didn’t enjoy it as much as I should have. The fact that I decided to go on a walk with a friend of mine (who just so happens to be a guy) leading to many rumours being spread didn’t brighten the situation either. I just wish that people would mind their own business. So I saw a shooting star with someone who has a penis. Big deal.
Something that I have noticed while working like a madwoman though, the more you work at the beach, the more popular you become, but unknowingly. Do you know how many people recognize me because I’m always everywhere? I don’t even know who they are, yet they always want me to come to their parties and such even though they see how much I work and I guess think I function without sleep for some reason.
At least I’m not cutting myself with Exact-o knives as I was doing this time last year – let’s rephrase that, shall we? I was working at the LCBO last summer cutting open cooler boxes when my grip slipped and cut myself about an inch away from my wrist. Six hours and five stitches later I was off work by a doctor’s note for a week. Fun times. I couldn’t even drive without it hurting.
At least it’s been a calm summer, no fights this year, no cheating boyfriends, no wistful hearts, just many poems written on boring days at the Beach Variety Centre.
Oh, here’s one from a couple of days ago:
in the abyss
it’s cold, lonely and sad
all that encompasses
the walls
are feelings of despair
and helplessness
as the world
continues to move
and function
outside the walls
happy and alive
with no care for
anything else
Deep huh? I have no idea what it means.
back to the start
double coded in you
my skin itches
my brain swims
in thoughts
that shouldn’t be
i wrote this a while ago – found it among my doodles in a notebook -
lost
She woke up this morning
And discovered that she was lost
Her mind confused and hurt
Where she was emotionally
She did not know
Nor care
All she wanted
Was time
She was lost in thinking
The sadness had overcome her
Scared of being alone
Realizing she was
She was afraid
Of it
Of being lost
And now
All she can do is be
Upset at the fact that she is
With no one to turn to
She sits as defeat settles in