I couldn't care less.
Yesterday played "Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2" through. The first game in many years I wanna play through again.
Feels like the brain's wrapped in plastic again. Might be just spring. Feels like stuff's hopeless. Spring, definitely. Might be just the weather. Might be something else. I don't know. Work 12 hours a day.
It's just today, though.
Bike's crashed. Scooter stalled, kickstarter broken.
The weather sucks so it doesn' hurt that much.
The more I work the less I think. Which is anther escapist solution. But it has been working for me so far. Thusly I see no reasons to stop using this kind of 棒法。
"Special needs" (c) Everyone gottheirs. hate it when somebody else's overlap with mine. Sorry, I'm no Jesus Christ. "Choke" (c)
I don't like to give. Don't like to get either. Prefer to take. Hate it when others are taking from me. Job doesn't count. It's just an easy way out. This job.
I don't know what they think. I don't care so much,really. I come on time, do what I was hired to do. Go when everything is over. Somewhere in the depth of my heart (wow, I got heart?) I know that there must be more to life than that, but I'm tired of looking for that something. So I stopped looking.
Stopped a very long time ago and have never regretted it since.
It makes me so productive.
12 hours inbetween office time and office time.
Has always been a good excuse.
They walk around. Have their lives. Talk. Discuss something. Same thing every day. I don't want to be original any more, so I do the same things.
I am just like them. Like you. Not that I like you, though. Some day it will all change. They will all change. I will all change. I just haven't decided when.
***
I'm sitting in the office early in the morning. Look at the city. The city looks at me. A 13-year-old girl in front of me is telling me an ancient Chinese story. As ancient as the continent itself. Some pagan stuff. They learn it at school. I never did. I look at the cars. At the rain. She keeps on telling. Her story is so coherent. It makes me shiver. I look at the skyscraper across the street. It's the Bank of Communications. She says “孙悟空”.
***
The boss of my ex-girlfriend's company has shown up for the class. I saw her. in another life. Alternate reality. I think we had a dinner together. She doesn't remember me, but she's got a deja-vu feeling. I can see it in her eyes. She's got nice eyes, this boss. Nice eyes on a fugly face. Well, alright. Ordinary. On an ordinary face. She feels she could ask me a question. The question. She's too shy to ask, though. And I'm too distant to tell.
So we sit in front of each other. She - with an unasked question. me with an untold answer.
What if all that shit is folding back on me? Just crawls back in bits and pieces, trying to build a zombie clone of the past. Then what?
Then, well, we kills zombies here in US, you know.
Feels like the brain's wrapped in plastic again. Might be just spring. Feels like stuff's hopeless. Spring, definitely. Might be just the weather. Might be something else. I don't know. Work 12 hours a day.
It's just today, though.
Bike's crashed. Scooter stalled, kickstarter broken.
The weather sucks so it doesn' hurt that much.
The more I work the less I think. Which is anther escapist solution. But it has been working for me so far. Thusly I see no reasons to stop using this kind of 棒法。
"Special needs" (c) Everyone gottheirs. hate it when somebody else's overlap with mine. Sorry, I'm no Jesus Christ. "Choke" (c)
I don't like to give. Don't like to get either. Prefer to take. Hate it when others are taking from me. Job doesn't count. It's just an easy way out. This job.
I don't know what they think. I don't care so much,really. I come on time, do what I was hired to do. Go when everything is over. Somewhere in the depth of my heart (wow, I got heart?) I know that there must be more to life than that, but I'm tired of looking for that something. So I stopped looking.
Stopped a very long time ago and have never regretted it since.
It makes me so productive.
12 hours inbetween office time and office time.
Has always been a good excuse.
They walk around. Have their lives. Talk. Discuss something. Same thing every day. I don't want to be original any more, so I do the same things.
I am just like them. Like you. Not that I like you, though. Some day it will all change. They will all change. I will all change. I just haven't decided when.
***
I'm sitting in the office early in the morning. Look at the city. The city looks at me. A 13-year-old girl in front of me is telling me an ancient Chinese story. As ancient as the continent itself. Some pagan stuff. They learn it at school. I never did. I look at the cars. At the rain. She keeps on telling. Her story is so coherent. It makes me shiver. I look at the skyscraper across the street. It's the Bank of Communications. She says “孙悟空”.
***
The boss of my ex-girlfriend's company has shown up for the class. I saw her. in another life. Alternate reality. I think we had a dinner together. She doesn't remember me, but she's got a deja-vu feeling. I can see it in her eyes. She's got nice eyes, this boss. Nice eyes on a fugly face. Well, alright. Ordinary. On an ordinary face. She feels she could ask me a question. The question. She's too shy to ask, though. And I'm too distant to tell.
So we sit in front of each other. She - with an unasked question. me with an untold answer.
What if all that shit is folding back on me? Just crawls back in bits and pieces, trying to build a zombie clone of the past. Then what?
Then, well, we kills zombies here in US, you know.