'normal people think about things that are actually important!'

(i woke up to SNOW)

ya know what i hate? oh, i'll tell you what i hate. i hate the fact that to work, means to die. i'm not the kind of person that can have the kind of job i have. it's too demanding on my creative mind (hahahaha!! how fucking emo did that just sound?). i mean, i totally understand why artists all work at places like coffee shops, restaurants and bowling alleys. ok, i don't know if they work at bowling alleys but they might... they work there to escape the mundane and the blase. they work there to know they're going do have stretches of time off and that there's nothing predictable about their job.

i sound like such a pussy (whah whah whah...it's too demanding...whah whah whah...) but seriously. that whole rush hour, nice clothes and normal hours thing is such a buzz kill. i feel so...um, so...khaki. i hate khaki. part of it is that i'm stuck in a lousy situation at my job. it pays AWFUL and demands more hours than one has in a day...so part of it IS that, but most of it is that drab, deathly feeling that comes with the good 'ol 9-5, period.

i mean, i LOVE the city. some of the most fun nights of my life have been spent wandering through them high as a kite at three a.m. or dancing until i passed out and then having to be carried through them...but when i leave my work...i just want to escape the city skyline. the breathtaking-ness is gone. i just want to leave. looking for the perfect graffiti in that dirty alley or the searching for the perfect vantage point to find some magic in the way the sun dances off the building is history. mostly, i want to find the ramp that houses my car, pay the money required to leave and be done. it's pathetic how a job can take SO much of what you love and loved and turn it into what you despise. sad.

so apparently, it HAS to be one or the other. i can't do both. i can't battle traffic, run reports, attend meetings, schedule staff--then leave that and go explore my creativity... my creativity is killed by the time i punch out. absolutely dead and gone. so what's more imporatant? paycheck or sanity? depends on who ya ask i spose...to me, it's my sanity. last night i had a fit of insanity...like real bad...hasn't happened in years sort of bad. i just lost it and kept needing to find something...though i'm still not sure what...? (it was something in my writings from awhile ago...i had paper and notebooks everywhere.) my fiance is teasing me relentlessly about it today--but i don't really think it's that funny. it's me hitting a wall. my guy now hasn't had to deal with a lot of that shit but i have two guys in my past who have witnessed more than enough of it. (my drunken honestly is ALWAYS the trigger. two glasses of wine last night were enough to do it.) one of my past guys is insane and un-balanced and the other is more normal and well-adjusted than anyone i've ever met...and they'll both sing the songs of my crazy. the only difference between the two were the fights. the crazy one...well our fights were brutal...two worlds colliding kind of brutal...bruises and tears...with equal reciprocity... the normal one, with him it was all in words. he was an avid reader and philosophy fanatic and and he used his words to sting...they hurt way more than the way the wall and my body conjoined by the hands of my insane love did. either way, the fights, to be honest, over half the time stemmed from my insanity-- and like it or not, they are both still way too close to me for me to ever let go. they're both pretty decent shit to be still standing by my insane ass...

ok, i'm WAY off subject now...hold on...i'm putting the needle back on the track...

*scraaaaaatch*

ok...so i don't really expect most to understand this, as i'm sure it sounds odd if you're not like me. but if you are, even a little, i have a feeling you know EXACTLY what i mean--and have probably had the same issue. my artist friends are all the same...it's why they call us crazy. it's impossible to understand...but it makes so much sense at the same time.

(my blog title was actually taken from a fight between the normal ex and i. when he yelled that at me and i was SO mad. i'm pretty sure i took a swing at him.)