I keep asking people wether they like their jobs and to my surprise everyone does. It looks like it's just me who hates this lifestyle of 10-6. My family is out getting their nails done and I'm at work as always. Want to talk about God and justice? Neither exist. If they did, this wouldnt be my place right now. This summer I survived everything, and I was the best person I could ever be, I gave in completely and lived selflessly, and yet look at me now. Punished for God knows what, while everyone else seems to love their life. And then theres my mum who keeps telling me that this is temporary but six months at a job you hate, if not more, doesnt sound like temporary to me. It sounds like a cruel punishment. Im mad at both of them, my sister and my mother. At my sister for being happy and living life exactly the way she wants it, while I, the sick one, work and wonder the fuck I'm for, and at my mother for being so unhappy and infecting me with her bullshit too.
It's almost New Years, but I've never been less excited about it. Another day spent alone in the company of people who only make me feel more lonely. Putting on a smile, pretending to be grateful for things I could never learn to be grateful for, dancing, joking around, bullshitting.
Last night I practically cried myself to sleep. I was crying because life is a fucking bitch. It makes zero sense and yet it hurts like hell at the same time. I have to sit here for another 6 and a half hours, being someone I'm not, and waiting for nothing. I used to be a waiting person, I used to wait for everything, but its easy to stop waiting once you've stopped believing. I dont believe in a single thing about this universe, and my eyes are transparent, like my sister would say. Because theyre empty. Theyre not waiting for anything and theyre not thinking of anything. They're just there, imprisoned like him, and there's not a single person in the world on whose shoulder I could cry on. Everyone is too busy being happy.