we stare at broken clocks, the hands don't turn anymore

work.
it's necessary, but i still find it boring. sitting around pretending that my job actually has some relevance. that i care about meeting notices and minutes and all the boring shit that makes up this gig.
i do care, i do.
i care because i get paid, and when i get paid i get closer to going away. that's how it is in my mind, although i spend my pay basically as soon as i get it.
ergh, no one cares aboutm oney. money can eat my shorts for all i care.
its only ten am, one hour into a working day here, and i almost have nothing left to do.
You would think i would always have activities to partake in, but until the mail gets here, i am a free birdy. free to fly where i so wish.
i left my inspector Poirot book at Jans house, which was possibly one of the most intensely unhappy moments of my life.

okay so more interesting topic.
i cant think of one.
thats enough, enough blathering and pointlessness.
i am going to go read things from two thousand and seven.
chow down.

i cant hold on when i'm stretched so thin

whaaat the fuckk,
seriously mate, i have no idea what i am trying to achieve by writing this sentence.
okay i shall be honest, that sentence had no ending, i started and then i blathered a few words worth of shit.
really need to get in the shower and BE CLEAN!!
cal just got home from dads, and is wandering around aimlessly in his work uniform, smelling of badness.
have to download all my music again because it got killed off itunes. its all good though. i have queens of the stone age going now, which makes me happy. stealing the 120 g ipod back of dom and quimbie. for shit its going to ruby for her birthday. that thing is mine and everyone else can suck my dick. yay,
With all my skill and dexterity i have found that it would take three days to listen to all the music i have already, and that is but a portion of what i am getting. thats good, i like to have diversity in my tunage.
so i have been very happy lately. am doing a trainee thing at unitcare, learning how to be a receptionist. its only four hours a day, which is a good thing. i am actually enjoying it a fair bit. its pretty boring at times, but i like typing and organising things, so i guess its well suited to me.
eating pretty badly, but i bought a book about eating today, which is all very exciting, and wonderful and business.
ergh, you know shits fucked when you're buying books about healthy eating. i will roll with it. i'd rather be a sad fuck with a book about dieting than a fat fuck with cellulite. i think thats pretty reasonable.
spending a little more time at home which is sort of good, sort of bad. i dont really know what i am trying to achieve at the moment. but i have always liked rolling along with nothing heaps important to do, so you know.
i sort of want to move out, but i really dont think i should whilst i dont have the means. who am i kidding, of course i have the means, i just really cant be fucked doing my own washing. this is why we have parents.
stuff with mum is way better since i started actually being more honest with her. certain things have remained on the down low, but i figured we're more likely to get along if i treat her properly. and it is working.
certain other people are pissing me off.
i dont like having to have days booked with people. what the fuck happened to catching up when the time was right.

quick vent.
dont fucking talk to me about immaturity when all i was trying to do was do right by you because you cant find it in yourself to be happy for me. immaturity is you. you when you act like the victim every fucking day, when you complain about how your life is going nowhere but flake on all the things that might help you become more than you are. immaturity is an inability to further yourself.
but whatever. i dont think you realise it but you are the very fucking definition of immature.
so shut the fuck up and try fixing yourself before spewing your shit at me.

The ocean rolls us away

Bonjour my sweet reader of stuff.
So I have been superbly boring as of late and have not been partaking in the sadness and general depression that comes with writing. This has resulted in a complete inability to type properly on my phone. Also I have no idea what to write. I am passing time on a bus with a whole shitload of corporate fucks, pretending I'm not going to be a receptionist for the rest of the day. Dont know what sort of mood I was in when I last wrote, and to be honest I dont really want to know.

As of late all my brain can tell me is that I am a fucking retard. I mean, I am a wonderful retard, but a retard nonetheless. Perhaps I give people chances because I hope they will do the same for me, but I'm not really fucking happy acting like best friends when I want to claw their fucking faces off. I will be honest I want to remove them and begin again.
Shut up Maggie.