Hello Old Friend

Wow. Two posts in one month! There was a time when I would have considered that unacceptable. Now, I'm actually impressed with myself for taking time to write again. I've been so busy. I've been so tired. I've been.. highly unmotivated. I know that's not an excuse. I can't say I want to pursue a career in writing one day and then neglect something as easy as freewritng for myself. There's no excuse. I don't have to churn out something spectacular each time. I just have to try.

God, I hate my job so much. Really, I do. At first, I was excited about the prospect of having that big, post-graduate, 9a-5p job. But this is nothing more than a temp assignment that's driving me insane. The stress is more than I'm accustomed to dealing with. More than I think I can handle. I'm crying more, sleeping less and drinking... Well, let's just say there's only liquor and water in fridge at home. I know my health is suffering because of this job. I wake up tired, I don't sleep well at night, and I'm having more and trouble focusing throughout the day. On the drive to work, there's this billboard that reads: "1 in 3 people will die of heart disease this year." I pass that sign everyday on the way to work and think, I'll probably be one of those three. I'll probably have a heart attack at 27. Or develop some stress-related heart condition as a result of this job. And for what? I have nothing to show for it other than the amazing people I work with. But everyone is looking for another job. It's odd. I feel like I've been tricked.

On top of that, I feel like I'm failing in my personal relationships as well. I don't communicate well, if at all. I have trouble opening up. I build walls. I reinforce them. I reinforce the reinforcements. So I have all these things building inside of me with no hope of release. I drink myself into a numbness nearly every night and start over in a few hours. It's like a reset button. Although, it's not really a clean slate each morning. The problems are still there. It's more like a save button. I just clear off whatever's bothering me and store it somewhere else. It's not healthy, or so I've been told. But it's all I know. It's how I've learned to deal. There's nothing worse than being "that girl". The one who always wants to talk about fer feelings. The one who's too insecure to function.

I may be that girl, but I don't want to be known as that girl.

I need a vacation. From life.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

If These Walls Could Talk

I was cleaning off my desktop and found this picture...



Well, I say "clean", I guess I mean more so.. sort. It's still more than halfway cluttered with old files and icons. Like this picture. Anyway..

This picture may not look like much.. But it's the sum of a lifetime's work, dedication, and perseverance.. And it's the site where I've had some of my fondest memories. It's like a dream.. But looking at this picture reminds me that it's just wood, metal, plaster, and brick. What makes this picture so special--this place so special, is what it's become. How I feel when I'm there. Not the walls, but how I feel inside them.

I think captain Jack Sparrow said it best: "That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs but what a ship is... what the Black Pearl really is... is freedom. "

Yeah, that's it. Freedom.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.