There were too many eyes today. Too many people everywhere. I couldn't think with all the noise--the electricity emanating from everyone….they didn’t even have to speak..I could feel it...its everywhere...buzzing humming screeching…I couldn’t think with that. I couldn’t focus on anything. I havent really slept well in two weeks. Theres too much humming. We are all electrified...I can taste the static in the air...I can’t sleep again.
I can’t sleep.
But I can write and blink. I can sing and laugh and drink. And apparently, rhyme, however unintentionally. I can push that shouting static far into the back of my mind and pretend its behind me.
I can make lattes for douchebags for 9 hours a day, like I did earlier today. Some of them aren't really douchebags, some of them are kind, in a way. I am just angry at having to waste so much of my life making them 5 dollar lattes when I feel like there are so many other valuable to things to do with money and time. We rob each other. We rob ourselves.
I get to drive home for an hour, listening to the radio, the speakers steadily spewing soundwaves. Its phenomenal, its frightful. Its easy to tune out and I like that. Sometimes I don't remember how I got home, I just sort of wake up out of one of those trances we can get into while driving monotonous trips and find myself in my driveway. It certainly makes the time fly by. I am not sure how I feel about this.
I get to spend all day in the library tomorrow, smelling the musty paper and perfume from its ancient inhabitants (old books and old bats). I am looking forward to this. I will see crazy man and he will try to hug me again and will smell like patchouli and smoke. I will see my favorite barista at my favorite coffee shop and we will talk about something that makes the time it takes him to pour hot water into the tea cup worthwhile and not waste of life and money. It will be beautiful, blissful.
I'm talking crazy and I know it, I just can't stop. I have to show you my thoughts, in a diagram, in ink and paint or pencil and crayons. I wish we had telepathy. Maybe then we could understand each other. I never know which words to say and all my meanings come out twisted and skewed and never quite like I want them to sound or feel.
I give up.
Have a good night.
