sick sad cruel little world

Is there really such vain soul that exists primarily to flirt and hook up? Is there really such vain soul that exists primarily to flirt and hook up with the man I have such deep respect and untarnished fascination for? And he flirts back, multiple times! goddamnit! Such like the rancid stench on a mount dump. Makes me sick to my gut. But really, who the fuck is she? Is it love or just lust, because I at least have both for him.

Is there such a thing as "subtle screwing up"? Hardly a week passed without either a late, half-day, or absence from me. My so-called "tasks" are hardly ever met. I take an extra "unsupervised" break, or two, at times, three. I take one of my early breaks and spend it with a bottle of booze, and go back to work like I only took a bottle of juice. Every morning I wake up analyzing when will my next scheduled "sick" leave will be. Makes me think I'm no better than a zombie. So maybe this screwing up is really not so subtle. But I like to think of it that way. And sooner or later, the radar's going to have it's target on me. But I don't care. It's all damned anyway.

Then, I go back home and it feels like I'm this horrible evil mime in a perfect little world. Ruins a good photo. It's the most unhealthy and ugliest feeling, and it lingers still. I crawl into my own hole and have my momentary distractions, then go to sleep, waking up only to repeat the same shit, the same sickening routine, over and over and goddamn over again.

And the best part? Nobody really ever gives a shit. Everyone's too busy with their own empty existence. Thinking about the not-so-important urgents. And it's a sore to realize that I am guilty of doing that as well. But I doubt anyone's really reading any blogs, let alone this little sick sad blog. And if one soul does, this will most likely be just street graffiti. Utterly useless. Once passed, always forgetten.

What a sick sad cruel litte world. And I live in it every single day. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.

...:::j u l i e:::...