A flower cried and the flower is me. By crying I don’t mean tears running down my cheeks. It’s more about crying internally for things that are wrong with your life and why not others too. It’s nothing to cry about because life is what you make it. My life is mostly in my head. Things could be better but I still cry about how boring it is. I just don’t have the guts to be anything I really want to be. I try to have something to do to fill my days. Cleaning is not one of them even if I would have time to do it. OK, the secret is out, I’m messy and frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn. Quoting a certain movie quote, wink. When people say work hard. For me, it’s working hard mentally. It’s not easy being me and I’m the only person who knows that.
I applied for a job yesterday. It’s nothing in my field though. To make a story short, it contains packaging. I have some experience of that but I don’t think that’s enough. They probably chose someone younger. I didn’t even send a resume. At least I applied to something. The point was, I could have started something long ago. Like in web or graphic design but now I still have to apply for jobs. They say you should apply to any job but isn’t that taking away a job for someone who has studied the subject? The one I applied for wasn’t that hard or how would I know. I imagine things a lot and the reality is something else. My job applications fail because I never know how to write things. It takes a lot of energy out of me when I have to think about it so I don’t do it very often. I’ve never liked difficult things. Like Math or coding. I especially have a problem with telling about myself.
I also cry about how people have no respect for silence. Do people really love their voices so much they have to keep talking? Not quietly but loudly. Maybe they’re hard of hearing. You hear loud talking in your own flat. On the streets and in public transport. You would think at least in your own home you could be without hearing the neighbours loud voices. It doesn’t need to be all the time but even one raised voice is disturbing. It sounds like they’re skinning a cat. I suppose living in a city and in a high-rise you just have to live with it. Sometimes I wish I could live on an island where no one would disturb the peace. At least people should take other people into consideration and not think no one else is there. These loud people are the ones who should move to the country. The easiest would be to have respect for other people and not this self-importance behaviour. Maybe that’s just too much to ask.
There are more important things to think about then other peoples behaviours. One of them is what to do with my life job-wise. I’m a flower that cries but I don’t always want to be like that. I just need to get the life I have in my head out in the open. Then I probably would only cry happy tears, internally.