March 10, 2010

  • 1:15pm:

    what do i do when i realize that everything i thought about a person was a lie?  do i try harder?  smile brighter, speak more sweetly?  do i resolve to let it go, ignore it, forget it?  no, of course not.  that would be mature and productive, and i am neither of those things.  instead i allow the vitriol in my brain to seep down and soak my bones, slip down my throat to twist and tear at my stomach until i'm equally vile inside and out.  i let the little voices tell me that i was stupid for hoping, for wishing and believing in myself and missing your friendship.  all the magnanimous connections in my life have been lies, because i'm starting to realize that in the end of things, people are just shit.  everyone fakes smiles and laughs, everyone craves deeper connections but doesn't strive for them.

    the girl loves a song that reminds her of a boy, of bodies lined up side by side, of limbs wrapped like legos.  the boy loves that same song because it reminds him of another girl, whose memory is trapped at a tender age, of rocks and sunbeams.  that girl got that same song from the boy she loved, on an actual really true mixed tape, and that boy listened to that same song so he wouldn't cry.

    we are all just conciliation prizes.

    4:00pm:

    lucy enter the HR manager's office and is motioned to take a seat.  she does so, a large smile on her face.  HR lowers the phone a bit.

    HR: let me guess, you're quitting.
    lucy: (nods)
    HR: wait, i was kidding.  you're serious?
    lucy: (nods more)

    later, while standing at the jewelry counter, lucy lets it go.  all of it, because why hold onto the things that make you sad when you're not trying to craft the next great american novel?  especially when you have a new job, one that is, at most, ten minutes from your house as opposed to an hour away.  one where you have three weeks vacation and amazing insurance and no night shifts and no sunday shifts and bank holidays off and an opportunity to work somewhere where you can wear colors and your clothes won't be covered in dirt and your fingernails wont break from tearing up labels and you won't have to wear three sweaters and fingerless gloves in the winter.

    in summary, OH MY EFFING GOD.

    this has gotta be the good life
    this could really be a good life, good life