Bathwater - No Doubt
Wednesday, February 4, 2009 by Genre
Today was a good day, I have to admit, but I have just one question: Why do I feel like shit?
I can't blog lately. I don't have anything to say. I wake up in the morning to go to work, I come home and I go to bed. I am doing nothing with my life, absolutely nothing. Am I really so driven by making money instead of loosening up and having a good time? Am I afraid of being hurt again? I haven't stopped hurting yet, so where lies the problem?
I miss him every day, and I wonder if he's missing me. I'll never know because I can't bring myself to ask. I don't think I want to know either.
I miss the feeling of being wanted, of making another person happy. I miss being able to tell someone I love them and mean it with every fibre of my being.
I hate how hung up I am on him still. I hate how my emotions are controlling me. Since when do I have a heart? Ask anyone last year and they'd say I'm a cold, disconnect prick. When did that change? Is it for the better? I hope so.
I've been so exhausted lately. I've been covering double shifts at work, and I'm going to continue for another week. I don't have a choice. At least I'll rake in a nice pay cheque but that means I have to kiss my tiny social life goodbye.
I gave my mother a hug today for the first time in a very long time. It was so strange. It wasn't uncomfortable, it's just been so long. I may not talk to her much, and when I do I might not be as nice as I could be, but have no doubt. I love my mother more than anyone else in the world and I would be completely ruined if anything ever happened to her. I miss her.
I think tomorrow I'm going to stop by O'Leary and say hello to a few of my old teachers. I haven't seen them in a year.
I've been reading my horoscope daily again. It frightens me how accurate they seem to be sometimes. As general as they are, they always seem to get it right.
Fiona Apple's voice is like a rich dark chocolate that I cannot stop eating.
I'm rambling now. I have no more words to say.
I can't blog lately. I don't have anything to say. I wake up in the morning to go to work, I come home and I go to bed. I am doing nothing with my life, absolutely nothing. Am I really so driven by making money instead of loosening up and having a good time? Am I afraid of being hurt again? I haven't stopped hurting yet, so where lies the problem?
I miss him every day, and I wonder if he's missing me. I'll never know because I can't bring myself to ask. I don't think I want to know either.
I miss the feeling of being wanted, of making another person happy. I miss being able to tell someone I love them and mean it with every fibre of my being.
I hate how hung up I am on him still. I hate how my emotions are controlling me. Since when do I have a heart? Ask anyone last year and they'd say I'm a cold, disconnect prick. When did that change? Is it for the better? I hope so.
I've been so exhausted lately. I've been covering double shifts at work, and I'm going to continue for another week. I don't have a choice. At least I'll rake in a nice pay cheque but that means I have to kiss my tiny social life goodbye.
I gave my mother a hug today for the first time in a very long time. It was so strange. It wasn't uncomfortable, it's just been so long. I may not talk to her much, and when I do I might not be as nice as I could be, but have no doubt. I love my mother more than anyone else in the world and I would be completely ruined if anything ever happened to her. I miss her.
I think tomorrow I'm going to stop by O'Leary and say hello to a few of my old teachers. I haven't seen them in a year.
I've been reading my horoscope daily again. It frightens me how accurate they seem to be sometimes. As general as they are, they always seem to get it right.
Fiona Apple's voice is like a rich dark chocolate that I cannot stop eating.
I'm rambling now. I have no more words to say.