23 at 12

Today I just turned 23 and like all things, it’s as empty as you would think it’d be. I am frustrated with my life and really wish she’d said goodnight but perhaps I was being petulant. Perhaps I need a sedative. Perhaps some things don’t ask for giving all of my percentages. I work: I’m over-qualifed; I’m under-houred, and positive that I am going nowhere, slowly, chugging like a ferry. And how dare she not say goodnight! On this one night of every night (well, tomorrow’d be worse – but I am slightly drunk and more emotional) – not that I expect a punctual happy birthday right on the dot – no, I know she’s got more pressing things, can’t take her mind off, can’t take leave off herself for a moment. I am 23 right now and I’m the oldest that I’ve been but I feel stupid – young and stupid, I feel pathetic and useless. I think I may cut my hair to get a change or rearrange my room or buy some shoes or get drunk and lose control oh I hate birthdays.

~ by perfectionatrix on June 20, 2012.

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