"Shadow at the Door" (censored)Today marks almost one year of progression since the dismal season of christmas. The christmas that had me clawing away at some answer to the wad of tension in my throat and the despair strangling my willpower and energy. I have apparently emerged from that time with a stronger mind, supposedly capable of withstanding the physical and mentally burdensome events of adulthood moreso than before.. while I was UNDER the impression that I was better off, maybe I was just walking on the wrong side of the globe. And when you walk the sphere, eventually you have to end up where you began...
Well, welcome back. It finally hit and here I was, thinking that I was doing great: thirty-five hours a week at work and a full course load. I was truckin' along, not worry-free, but seeing blue skys despite the rocky road. Colours have begun to dim now.. from the inside out. I was supposed to be fired today. Let go, says my manager. If I had not been a special case and they had not invested as much time in me as they have, I would have been "let go" this morning. And those were his words. I failed my certification, but by his mercy I am being given another chance. I am of the two remaining in my position of the seven that were hired almost three months ago.
Whether its pity that keeps me employed, or whatever the case, I feel sick to my stomach. I failed. I am slow and I just can't get it. And then these ******* essays, given to me by these "higher than thou" professors, who shoot me down in class for trying to answer subjective questions.. and then polish up the ideas of some empty-headed cutie to make them feel **extra special**. I will not participate in my classes anymore. I was humiliated in front of my english professor, the last one who still talks to me as though I am able-minded, by some ******* brown-nosing **extra special** **** **** **** of a worthless *****...I am not... an angry person. But I...But I spend so much time, pretending to be happier than I am. I forget how I really feel at the end of the day. My job requires me to tear my face open with genuine smiles hour after hour, then I have my study sessions where I am an "eager and ambitious" student. With my family, to keep my parents from trying to set up my life to their standards, I become the mature son: I pretend everything is hunky-dorey. To keep my friends in touch and to make them want to keep hanging out with, I have to be fun and interesting. And what does this make me? Nevermore myself than a demo of "chris".
And it just hit me today. So hard.. with my job, with school, I returned to where I was in my very first entry, and I have so much hate that isn't supposed to be there in me. So much molten anger and tension that isn't being let out. Pretending you're a happy little ****** when you just want to beat your fist to bloody bits just amplifies the sick gut twist. And my eye twitches, and my hand shakes and sweats, and I take the next order with a smile.It's an illusion that makes my teeth hurt. I hate smiles. I don't know a genuine smile.And if it comes to it, I'll quit to maintain my integrity. Because what ******* do you have left after that.
Sleep comes not to the weary, but rests upon their shoulders.
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