August 02, 2014|
Everything feels so bleak lately. My hours are drastically reduced so even showing up seems pointless. Fifteen hours next week. Not a lot of pay. Still seems like a lot of time for something that doesn't have any particular meaning. I struggle to compose music for any amount of time per week, and somehow that meager amount of time feels more meaningful than all the time accumulated on the clock. Starting yesterday, all my shifts have me closing and I can't do it fast enough and yesterday I worked off the clock and it feels like the most futile disgusting thing and I keep considering just quitting.
But I feel like I can't. If I quit it will be harder to find another job, then I will have to scrape even harder to pay rent. The rent thing is such a cruel joke by someone I trusted. She left for five days with her boyfriend and they left dishes piled in the sink.
So I have a job and it's not really helping and it's just such a weird new bleak feeling. Doing something that seems ultimately to serve no greater end, not even in the form of financial payout, it's so utterly useless to me. So what now.
Sometimes I romanticize the idea of sleeping in my car. One night I did when the fighting here got really bad. I don't know how I could keep that up. Everything feels so empty and abrasive. My schedule is nearly empty but I feel pressed into a wall, my face contorted against it by a meaty sweaty invisible hand.
so empty empty empty