alternative lifestyle

How could i ever be bored? I wake up every morning at the same time, get on the train and see the same old faces, bitch when its a minute late, have my morning coffee and paper so that it won't upset my mundane, monotonous routine ride into the grinder, put on the same face at work close my eyes sometimes at my desk on a monday, open them again to find out its thursday of a different month, and the only way i realize is because I'm wearing a different tie... I'm telling you, that's the life! That's the soul sapping, life devouring, mind warping life that the monks and masters of east asian philosophy tell us about all the time, luring us away from the beauty of what we have, in our anonymous little semi-spaces with their majestic mountain tops, minimalistic life styles and serenity. How lame is that? I would much rather fall asleep on the train on the way home, end up somewhere in the middle of manhattan, not realizing if im going to work or leaving, and wondering in which direction I'm headed. seriously though, if a person has everything, they never crave anything. Wanting is what reminds us we live. It is that hunger for things that requires us to continue yearning for that which is novel, to prevent us from stagnating in the rut the wheel of time has cut into this earth for all of us to fall in.

I'm alone, wolf

The hardest thing to do in life is to live it. After many years of being an open book, it is time to close my tome. The friends i used to value so dearly, the ones i shared my most precious of all gifts, my life, are gone. They've moved on, away, to bigger and better things, and i do not blame them. Sometimes i can tell they look back and see me in the distance, a memory of a friend they once knew. Now, holding them at arm's length, hidden within the confines of the fortress i built based on the countless lies i've told over the years to protect myself, i find that i am no more. I once defined myself by my friends, relying on them to perpetuate my story long after i had vanished, but it's over. One day i locked myself into the closet with the one skeleton i could not show, and vanished forever behind the masquerade i now call life.

How do i dig through 3 years of lies and make things right again? Is it even possible? I suppose there's no point now, as i have strayed too far from the flock. I submit.

Birthdays are overrated, especially when it isn't yours.

My mother's birthday is finally over. I was able to deal with the immaturity throughout the day, the 'everything revolves around me' mentality was typical too, but the callous way in which she addressed me as i sat on the kitchen floor bleeding, was too much for me. I snapped. Sure, maybe i could've been a little more courteous, perhaps i shouldn't have raised my voice as i did, but to be someone's mom and not show any concern? She was never my ideal for what a mom should be; she's rude, childish, selfish, stubborn, lords her status over me as if we were in preschool and she was older than me, but goddamnit, she treats me without respect while she is beyond reproach. I can understand that she married too young, was robbed of her youth by a variety of factors and spent the last 15 years raising me and my brother on her own, but does that give her the right to do the same to me? must i now share a similar fate as her, with my childhood robbed, forced to the wheel of responsibility and adulthood so that she might reclaim her time? Should i be understanding and reasonable while she is irrational and self-absorbed? I know i sound ungrateful, she did give birth to me and raised my sorry ass for however long it was before she decided she had enough. But why can't she grow up already? Even a little? And if she isn't willing to, at least acknowledge the fact that maybe i have? I realize one day I'm going to miss her too much for words, and my under appreciation now will haunt me until my dying days, but I have nothing left, nowhere to vent, no shoulder to cry on, no bottomless glass to drown my sorrows in. But I have you, a blank page, an empty space, an anonymous audience.