The flow.

Today work is really boring, but I got to deal with customers a lot and talk on the intercom. Dealing with customers makes things more interesting and fun. I got an angry customer on the phone, because I couldn't hear what he was saying. He even wanted to know my name. I was disappointed when he didn't come to the store to get mad at me.

My friend at work, Andrew, kept trying to make me laugh when I was on the intercom. He's pretty cool. Everyone in the warehouse was talking about why everyone should wash their hands, and I said something about how everyone in America tries to be so clean, that we should be more like Mexico; eating dirtier food to boost our immune systems. The Mexican guy took it the wrong way, and made me out to be a racist. He and everyone else started acting like they were laughing at me and talking shit.

I was really nervous, because accused of racism at work is no joke. They eventually admitted they were just messing with me. Pick on the new and only white guy, right? I definitely had the T__________T face going.

The irony is that I really don't like Mexicans.

When I got off work, Alex texted me about the fact that I had sex with Emily last night. I admitted that I kind of regret it, and that made her talk about how she understands because she feels that way with Brian. She mentioned how we're alike in a lot of ways.

That made me nervous, because I'm supposed to be distancing myself from her. I'd been doing good, too, but I think this was good, too, because I want to distance myself from what feels like a one sided relationship, but I don't want her to think that I'm completely uninterested in her life anymore.

She talked about her problems with Brian, and I straight up asked if she was asking for my advice; a new trick I picked up. I think I used to tend to assume she wanted my opinion when she didn't want it; a fact she made pretty clearly last week. But she did want my advice, and I gave her my genuine opinion hoping for the best.

After that is where I fucked up, but not too much. I fucked up in the sense that I kept talking to her where that should've just been enough. Talk enough to let her know I still care, but stay silent enough to let her know that I can't keep being hurt. I say I didn't fuck up too much in the sense that I was planning on talking to her about the Bioshock novel anyways.

Later tonight, she showed me her Tumblr which I took as a nice gesture. It would have hurt my feelings to see a link to it randomly, because she's the only one that I let read this blog. I liked that she personally sent me the link.

All this just means I still need to work on a balance with her. I think I'm okay to talk to her now, and I'll just go with the flow. The flow feels like an unspoken of relationship. It just it, I guess. I don't want to really think about how I feel about it. We're neither friends, nor strangers.



Receiving new music from Alex.

A systematic way of doing things; I'm always feeling this way to a rhythm that I'll feel like I can't take in a few weeks. But if I want to take it, I'm pretty sure it's something I can do.


Now I can't tell you if it's better to do myself in groups or if it's better alone, but I do know to get the best view, a wide track of anything, I have to tell myself what I want and what I want is to not be alone. Fingers a-cracklin' to find the newest taste; a way of keeping life in check, but a few days down the road, I'll know what I've known this whole time.


So is this it? A few minutes to distract myself with. I've got nothing less to do, and I've got a lot of feelings to feel; a dire creature with the need to weep. Tell me if it's there, because I've seen myself going through your closet and I didn't hate everything I saw. 


I'm here in my own misery, and it's all I ever wanted to do to keep us close. Quiet like an unhealthy new born, I'd be lying if I said I didn't find this exciting. I might not be there, but when my headphones are on, I feel closer than God fated us to be.