Days Keep on Going
Every day is exactly the same with only one slight variance. Wake up, take drugs, and go to either work or school. On really good days I just sit here and never move. This is what my life has become since she left me. My own personal prison. I can’t really say that I hate it all that much. We are all after some sort of prison when you stop to think about it. At least mine is my own.
Lately I haven’t had to go to college because of winter break, and to be honest I wasn’t really going that much before anyways so it’s all the same to me. School starts in a few weeks, I am almost certain, and I’m really not looking forward to it at all. I never wanted to go there in the first place, but my Mom told me if I wanted to continue to live in my house that I had to go to school. Really kind of a shitty situation but then again I live rent free. This frees up my money for the things that keep me going.
I know a man in town and he basically keeps me hooked to stay alive. It’s a rather sad existence, but hey I am still alive. I’m currently at work on one of my two fifteen minute breaks. I work in a drug store and some might say that’s not the best place for someone on drugs to work, but they were hiring and I need a job. When I started though I was a lot more stable. Working here isn’t really that bad, it’s just a bit mind numbing. It’s surprising the amount of stupid people in the world, but then again it’s probably not. I have a lot of time to reflect on such trivial thoughts such as intelligence. I work up front which is to say that I man the cash register. The company likes to pretend that I am nothing more than a cashier by giving me the title check out specialist. I don’t specialize in anything other than getting you the fuck out.
I could care less about your problems even though I smile and nod the whole time. All I am really thinking about is how much longer will your bullshit really affect me. I hate it when people talk to me about what they are buying as if I care at all. I really don’t care that you are buying laxatives, condoms, and a Mother’s Day card. All of this is trivial and pointless to me and my life.
It only gets better from here. Not a fan? Literally gets better from here because. Almost had me. I love to talk about my book. Questions? Ask them. Seriously comment away or get at me on twitter. It is sad and lonely in this cage. The chicken stopped talking once I ate him, and let’s be honest he didn’t have much to say before that either….