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I knew that once I got home that I'd be too tired to write anything down. But here is me trying.
Today is a good day. I got to the workshop and got a bit done, and I applied to a place where I know the owner and got an appy from another place. I'm hoping to have luck with the first place because the guy is young, nice, and seems like he would understand my pedicament. I just need someone to give me a chance, and I hope that he is willing to do that. Besides, I'd enjoy working there, the people are always nice and I'd always have something to do. The fact that it's right next to my mother's bank is helpful in a sense as well.
It is a good day. Yet I'm sad. It started when I missed the bus home. It was like the breaking point. I didn't get mad, upset, depressed, or pissed, just was sad. It started raining and the wind blew it hard as icicles onto my back and hair that escaped the holds of my hood and jacket. I was cold, very cold. I tredged along, knowing there was no point to do anything but to walk and think and try not to feel for a bit. I did get warmer, eventually.
I walked on and a bus caught up to me. It'd only take me part of the way home. I did that last time and had been relieved to escape the small bit of sun-heat that we had been "blessed" with the passed last of the week. It only took a part of the way there but it had been worth it. I didn't feel like cutting off time to my trip this time. It was a waste of money... and I have barely enough of that to take the bus lately. If I was going to spend money, it was going to be on a bus that would take me straight home and back.
I got very thirsty. A brightly lit gas station beconed like a pillar of heavenly light. I refused to even go in and consider picking up a bottle of water. I was not going to waste what precoius money I have on water when i could just suffer a small while and save it for the bus. It wasn't smart since water could help deflect the headache i get when i physically exert myself. But I was stubborn and turned my back to Satan's beconing.
The flower petals drifted down around me, and I thought about alot of things. I had wished that I could carry with me a device that would record my thoughts on a word processor. Then I wouldn't miss very important details or intricate story designs. I wished that someone had invented such a device. Then i realized that it would then be hollered at by human rights activists. Abuse of such a device would be horrible. Jealous lovers could force their spouse to wear them to ensure they thought of no other person ever. I would never fear that myself. My bf would never want to hear what I think about daily. he already is sick of how much I talk about him as it is.
So I pressed on, admiring the beauty of the petals and distantly wondering if they were mocking me. The rain sure was. I could ignore the rain, so it died down. The petals, however, they were too pretty. They caused me to stop my sniviling and actually glance up from underneath my long hood. I felt better for a moment, and then they were gone. I was sad again... and missing what little beauty I had seen.
Again I remind any readers, how few there even are, that I was not depressed. When you are depressed you think the world is out to get you, nothing goes right, nothing will ever go right, life is unfair and unjustified, and that it's better for everyone if you just "disapear". I thought none of that. It was mostly abstract thinking with the occasional bright thought followed by more sadness. I just felt down, not that life hated me. It was when the light filtered down from the trees that I felt the sun was mocking me, that it's warmth was sarcastically comforting my pain. That was the thinking of depression. Now I realize it was most likely a blessing to try and ease the pain I inflicted on myself and provide the means to get through it without breaking. I broke last night, broke hard, and even wanted my "mommy". On this walk, I thought of nothing but that I was just plain sad... and that was that.
I passed a man mowing his lawn. Distantly I remembered what my mother had told me, "...never should mow while the grass is wet or it'd rip it from it's roots." If I had mentioned that to the guy he'd have thought I was being a jerk and had snubbed me on my way. Perhaps the presence of the sun had tricked them all. I found many mowing on my way. The smell of fresh grass filled my senses. It was ugly. I have friends who sit there and breathe and would say "ah, smell that fresh cut grass." I think that if I set fire to a filled garbage bag that it would smell better. Many are also allergic. They should come up with a better way of keeping grass trim. Design a new type of grass. Scientists are now able to alter DNA so that a sheep is green and yet they can't even alter grass just enough so that it stops growing after half an inch? What are people paying these freaks anyway? How helpful is it if we can have green sheep?
On the last few roads now and I had started to get tired, very tired. On the road just before the last long road to my house I considered jumping into the forest spot next to me, just condem my future to the briars and green leaves and just sleep. For a moment I thought more about my future. It looked so bright last night, still does, and I really want to make my way down the path I had decided. So I didn't jump into the bush for a rest. I continued on my way.
By this point I wasn't sad any longer. I just couldn't feel anymore. Exhausted and frozen to the point where I was burning up, I was relieved I couldn't be sad. Depression is something I'm use to, sadness is not. I even felt so numb that I gave my legs a break by cutting off a bit of the road with J-walking in long angles. I worked, for the most part. Till I encountered a dog with collar that didn't seem to have an owner present. I think I'm a bit of a breedist, you know, like racist. Be it any dog, I would have been fine, but it was a full grown huskey. I gave it a very wide birth. The dog looked as though it was hurt by my actions, but I still hurried passed. I don't trust huskeys, not full-grown ones. One has jumped into our pond, messing up alot of hard work, and another... it almost bit off my dog's tail. By almost, I mean... the tail managed to stay on and heal. Seeing my dog go through the suffering he did, the constant whimpering and jumping at every action made... I don't trust huskeys well.
My bf wants a huskey, if he gets a dog.
That'd be alright if it was a puppy first. Then I would know it was brought up well.
Then I got home. Got a smile from my bf and it made me feel better. I never want to seem down around him, not lately, because I feel I'm a burden. I can solve alot of my feelings if I work hard enough, and he doesn't have to be taken on the full load. Upon arriving things were alright. I almost passed out, again, and gulped down alot of cold water. Told a few people about my day, sorta, not to this detail anyway, and it's been dead silent since. I reassured my bf that I was not depressed, and he's been silent since. It's a quiet day. I think after dinner I will have some hot chocolate. It's one of those days. It's a very, very, very cold day...
: )
 Silent Flame · Thu Apr 27, 2006 @ 01:08am · 0 Comments |
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