Je ne veux pas travailler

I spoke to two people today. The first was my father who saw I had just signed onto Skype. Shortly after, my phone rang. It was one am his time, we talked about various things, mostly updates about my siblings. The other call was from my girlfriend who had worked all day, and was really just calling me back.

I didn't leave my house today. It is a Monday. Don't worry, I didn't call in sick. It was a make-up holiday for the Saturday school. I woke up at four pm. It is three thirty in the morning now. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to eat. I only want to forget and so I smoke.

Hello was the first thing I said, and my voice was hoarse. I thought I may have been losing it. The last thing I said tonite was "of course not, goodnight". Then I cried.
I know this happens whenever I quit smoking. Like a broken heart, the sun streams in through the bars of this cage. Something inside of me can see the invisible, ghosts of the future. I'm seeing something.

It must be wonderful to be nice, but i've never known it.

Prequels vs. Sequels

i could hear the cymbals crash
slamming through the halls
hanging on the walls
i could have sworn it rock and roll
how was i supposed to know
how was i supposed to know

i felt them underneath
so soft, yet firm, petite
a cry from my feet beneath

a row of hearts
a queen of tarts

i felt them underneath
so soft, petite
they are lined up in a row
i could have sworn it rock and roll
how was i supposed to know
and know, and know

im finding yours and yours and yours
i've met them all before
i've loved them all before
ive loved them all before

The Wheel in the Sky

I've been trying to figure out why all I want to do everyday is sleep. Is it the changing of the seasons, the fact that it's dark when I get home from work? Is it the anger my body feels for taking away its nicotine, its alcohol? Is it that I can't feel anyone's presence unless they are in the room with me? Could it be that I feel all it's based on is nothing but a clock's countdown, and that's all there is to this thing we have?

Lately, I had been considering staying in Japan, moving to Tokyo.

Today I talked to my mother. Guess it was time for the "You're almost thirty years old" talk. I'm glad she reminded me. I had almost forgotten;-}

"i've been to Hollywood, i've been to Redwood, I crossed the ocean for a heart of gold, i've been in my mind, it's such a fine line, keeps me searching for a heart of gold, and i'm gettin' old"

She doesn't understand my inherent fears of being locked into something. I don't have a job with a four O one K. I'm not preparing for my future. I'm not going to have a husband to take care of me or pull me out of financial difficulties. She says.

I had been telling people that I'm planning to get a job in Tokyo, take Japanese classes, apply for school.


I don't let people make my decisions for me, though I do take into account their sentiments urging me to come home.

And it was at this afternoon that I realized, there's nobody here telling me to stay. So a girl must wonder, what am I to do?


AND SO TODAY MY THOUGHTS IN SONG----------------

I secretly read Postsecret.com

Because I also share this fear, I am quite grateful to how Japanese toilet stall doors usually reach the bathroom floor.