It's all a lie.
Beneath the clam exterior, I am a freaking nutcase.
I am dead yet I want to cry.
I need to motivate myself. It has been raining and I did dance in the rain.
To cool my temper.
To clear my head, my minds.
I'm a miserable wreck
Work was OK last week. Most of the immediate supervisor treats me invisible.
Like my comments doesn't matter anymore.
Colleagues from the science department were great. They brought me out for Japanese lunch and dinner..
My department? Maybe something small on Friday. These doesn't matter, I just want to be treated with respect and dignity when I'm working here. That it's more important to treat a person well when she is there, not when all is gone and everything is all for appearance sake only.
I'm still hurting inside.
I want to cry and draw a knife into the air.
These are in my head.
i am a broken child. playing in the rain and making the most out of this storm.
