ahhhhhh

sometimes, i feel so worthless at work. i'm the only employee, but i feel like i don't have enough things to do. it makes me feel bad. i don't know if my boss (aka my mom - which makes this all the more complicated) trusts that i can handle more tasks? i know she doesn't want to do it all by herself. ugh.

in other news: i haven't changed my oil in an entire year. maybe that's a new record. i really need to get that done. i find that i become more and more lazy as the ruthless conundrum(s) of life pass me by.

i'm trying to save up $750 for a trip to australia in june. my parents have agreed to lend me the rest.

i feel stuck.
don't know how many saturdays i spend in bed, only to get a shower at 7 pm and go out at night to drink my sorrows away. how cliche. i'm a walking cliche. all the time.

i feel barely alive.
it might be the break up. i don't know. i watch movies like The Women to acquire inspiration so that i can do something with my life instead of just going ahead and doing it. blah.

i feel unmotivated.
mediocrity is bliss. so many things i want to do.... play basketball again, cook dinner, sew my own clothes, modpodge everything. but......................................................i don't. why? b/c i'm in a blithering state of skidish, untouched, tainted and torn misery with only the faintest ideas and dreams to awaken me. i wear a mask, but keep myself drowned with anguish and self loathing so i can be content with wallowing.

i feel like a failure.
i hate the novel i wrote. to be honest... hate isn't a strong enough word. why are so many people asking to read it? i just want to delete the whole thing and never look at it again. now that... that would take courage. i don't see how i'm going to write my screenplay next semester with such a shitty novel under my detached belt buckle. oh yes oh yes, i need to revise... but who wants to revise a piece of crap? maybe this is why i won't make it as an editor. OH, the negativity!! it's so lovely.

i feel like a mystery to myself.
god doesn't even know who i am. so many different directions are being thrown at my face on a day to day basis. morgen, do this, morgen, do that... when all i feel like doing is just simply being. the idea of a "self" is forever altered after taking my asian philosophy class... so therefore, i have no idea who "i" am, who i want to be, or who i will become. la la la. tra da da.

scurry along little thoughts of negativity and mediocrity.
please leave now.

ok, but seriously.
leave.

ugh.