I was left in my father's office desk earlier in the afternoon and I digitally copied some vital information from the résumés piled on top of the desk. None of the cubicle-working people outside noticed that I was messing with their files. It felt like spy work, only there's absolutely no benefit. I had the cell phone numbers, e-mail addresses, home addresses, and choice portions of the histories of the applicants. I wasn't plotting anything, really, and I wasn't planning to scam these people into thinking they got their jobs by sending out fake e-mails because I'm no good at those. Everything's disposed of now and I just did that as part of my esoteric mission to find momentary happiness and evade any sort of attempts to reach the state of pre-Nirvana.
I salute you if you understand what I'm trying to cover up.
Someone I appreciate to death suggested I should go into some sort of pursuit to find a good enough identity without shaking up the status quo, so I took the advice and now I'm taking every opportunity I could to not feel like myself. This is the fourth day of my mentioned streak of feeling like dead skin and I'm losing myself, which is something. I've never really grasped who I am. I don't feel as though I'm the one who's blogging in here anymore. I feel like I'm possessed by somebody who wants to exist, but doesn't exist.
This reminds me so much of the late Morgan, who was overlooked by everybody because of some other scam by the name Nikki. Morgan did have her own story, only not as publicized or as libelous as Nikki's, and she acts just like I'm acting these days, entirely stubborn.
You don't get it because I don't explain well. I want to learn how but I'm afraid you'd think of hostile things and not tell me until God works His wonders and lead me to them. That's what my so-called friends do. Maybe I'm just doomed to be stabbed by everybody. I don't know.
I salute you if you understand what I'm trying to cover up.
Someone I appreciate to death suggested I should go into some sort of pursuit to find a good enough identity without shaking up the status quo, so I took the advice and now I'm taking every opportunity I could to not feel like myself. This is the fourth day of my mentioned streak of feeling like dead skin and I'm losing myself, which is something. I've never really grasped who I am. I don't feel as though I'm the one who's blogging in here anymore. I feel like I'm possessed by somebody who wants to exist, but doesn't exist.
This reminds me so much of the late Morgan, who was overlooked by everybody because of some other scam by the name Nikki. Morgan did have her own story, only not as publicized or as libelous as Nikki's, and she acts just like I'm acting these days, entirely stubborn.
You don't get it because I don't explain well. I want to learn how but I'm afraid you'd think of hostile things and not tell me until God works His wonders and lead me to them. That's what my so-called friends do. Maybe I'm just doomed to be stabbed by everybody. I don't know.
