haven't blogged in a while

It's Saturday morning, and I'm at the coffeehouse.

I haven't blogged in a while. I'm tried all the time, and i don't want to work anymore.

It's interesting, because I sit here at the coffeehouse and I think to myself, it seems like life is such a loop. We work and work and work, but it just consists of doing the same thing over and over and over.

What am I getting at, by doing stupid massage? It's just an endless sea of bodies, of people I never see again, and probably never want to see again. Life is so frickin' repetative. I don't want to repeat an endless loop, and never get anywhere.

I've been thinking about quitting my job, because I just don't want to do it anymore.

I guess my book interests me because its not a loop, its static. You write it once, and it sits there forever.

I'm tired of doing meaningless work. At my day job, I run around like an idiot worrying about stupid packages getting where they belong. I just don't want to do it anymore. What does it matter, if I get one envelope from point A to point B? The answer is, it doesn't. And the people at my job are totally bland. The strange part is, I just don't care anymore. I just ... I'll probably quit, though I won't like having no money. And I don't want to ever have credit card bills again.

I guess the loop does end in some respects. I paid off a credit card bill. I just never want to owe money again. That part of the loop is going to end for me.

I was looking at my landlord, who is older and owns properties. And he's rich, so what? I don't want to get to the end of my life, and find out that all I had was a big pile of money.

Everything in this life revolves around scrambling around. To get something. As my body decays, I rush in circles to grab money or ... I don't know what.

I play this game, World of Warcraft. And it's so fascinating, because you do this little silly quests, and level up. It constantly asks you to go to the next level. And you do get some interesting stuff, but ... what does any of it matter? Really, it's just the fun along the way that counts. And it's neat to walk around with really incredible armour.

I'm tired of feeling scared and abused by other people. I don't want that anymore.

I was thinking the other morning, about how I wanted to work for an hour before work, and force myself to do write. And then I just went ... forget it. What if I don't care? What if I just don't write. And then I thought about how I'm constantly thinking about leaving my job. And then I thought, "What if I don't?"

It's faking it, in a way. Sometimes, I feel like I live in fear, and I just don't believe that I can have a good job, or more importantly, succeed as a writer. But then another part of me thinks, what if I just did things I found to be rewarding, like massage and WOW and writing.

slow

I'm at the coffeehouse, and it's so slow here this morning. This guy at the counter is having a really hard time keeping up with all the crazies coming in, and I guess I am one of them.

I'm totally nervous about someone stealing my laundry now, it seems like that kind of place, where you have to watch your things. You'd think it would be better at six o'clock in the morning.

I worked yesterday at the spa, and ... I only did three massages. I passed one of my clients off to another therapist. It was a bad thing to do, but ... I was just kind of tired. And I'm not going to work there next week-end, which is probably a good thing.

I have my new apartment, which is great. I like it a lot. It's nice being there, I guess. But ... I'm sort of tired of the same old thing. The same old boring in my life. And I'm really tired of working at my same job I've had for years.

It's interesting, though. Because ... moving really was like a purge of so much crap. I don't want to say that it made me more confident, probably for the only reason that it sounds like a cliche, but .... I guess it is true. I really don't want to go to my stupid movie studio job anymore.

It's nice to come home to my apartment, though. I love it. It's so relaxing, and I love the fact that it's quiet on the week-end. Occasionally, I can heard some crack whore or a punk teenager walking my and making noise, but other than that, I don't hear much. It's kind of creepy in a way, but I guess I'll deal with it. I need to get some furniture too, because I can't stand not having a sofa.

I thought there were lots of drawers in the place, but there aren't ... well, there are lots of drawers, but they all have a strange size to them. They're all small, and it's annoying.

I guess Monday morning is the day all the crazies do their wash. The dryers are totally full.