The Monthly Grind
Fucking.. just.. I hate everything right now.
Ugh, ignore me, I'm trying out this new sort of thing, a cold turkey cleanse to break my current dependency. If it's one thing or another, I'm intentionally depriving myself of this shit so maybe actual blood flows in my veins instead of liquid caffeine.
I sound like I'm in withdrawal. Honestly, the booze wasn't the issue either. It was the hangover that got to me, and the coffee that kept me up to keep me from falling asleep at my desk.
Usually a certain blue haired girl kept me up, but she's currently away on business.
Damn it Jack, I saw your comment on my last post. Don't call me out like that, all the way wherever you are... You bitch. Quit making me express myself about this.
Listen. Or read.. whatever the fuck you're doing with this thing.
I'm Jack's... boss? Bodyguard? Best friend?
I don't know, some mix of all three plus the guy that tries to make sure she eats and properly takes care of herself? I don't fucking know. She makes my skin crawl, pisses me off, and does her best to skirt every rule I set just to get a rise out of me.
I miss it. I miss.. all of it. But I know she needs this. Needs to flow like a rushing river to get out this excess energy of hers. Clear her head, handle her shit like she did before.. well before everything sort of went to hell last year.
Something I had to watch and couldn't do anything about besides watch over her by her bedside and hold her hand.
Oh don't you fucking look at me like that across the screen, Jack. Better they know than bust your balls or mine about it later. We lived together, we are friends, sort of. It was home while you were around. Doesn't really feel the same way when you're out traveling.
Can't exactly be a shadow when you aren't around. Nothing to cast a light on to make me show up.
A house is only a home when the people who live there are together.
Her weekly texts are a nice reprieve.
Last one read as such:
"Don't work too hard, asshole. And don't worry, I miss you too, you rat bastard."
In Jack talk, that was one of the sweetest things she's ever said to me. Bitch. Now I miss her even more. And I was writing to keep these feelings.. sort of.. fucking private...
I don't know. I'm working to keep myself from thinking.
The fuck do you want from me? I'm not some one dimensional asshole that sits here and tells Jack that she can't do this, that, or otherwise. I'm a person too.
A shadowy fucking bastard with no sense of self preservation and holding on to a lot of fucking guilt over things I couldn't control. Things I should have never let happen.
Jack got me to where I am right now. Helped me become the man I am. So I feel obligated to help, and as much as I hate to admit it to anyone, I'd hate it if she died.
Seriously. And I know you're reading this, Jack. Don't die on me now.
Ugh. All of this sentimental bullshit is going to give me a migraine.
Forget it, I'm going back to working on dossiers. At least those won't make me think about my current mindset and let me avoid any real confrontation with my emotions.
First one on my list...
Is Jack.
WHAT IN THE EFFERVESCENT FUCK!
- From the desk of Section Chief Tag
Ugh, ignore me, I'm trying out this new sort of thing, a cold turkey cleanse to break my current dependency. If it's one thing or another, I'm intentionally depriving myself of this shit so maybe actual blood flows in my veins instead of liquid caffeine.
I sound like I'm in withdrawal. Honestly, the booze wasn't the issue either. It was the hangover that got to me, and the coffee that kept me up to keep me from falling asleep at my desk.
Usually a certain blue haired girl kept me up, but she's currently away on business.
Damn it Jack, I saw your comment on my last post. Don't call me out like that, all the way wherever you are... You bitch. Quit making me express myself about this.
Listen. Or read.. whatever the fuck you're doing with this thing.
I'm Jack's... boss? Bodyguard? Best friend?
I don't know, some mix of all three plus the guy that tries to make sure she eats and properly takes care of herself? I don't fucking know. She makes my skin crawl, pisses me off, and does her best to skirt every rule I set just to get a rise out of me.
I miss it. I miss.. all of it. But I know she needs this. Needs to flow like a rushing river to get out this excess energy of hers. Clear her head, handle her shit like she did before.. well before everything sort of went to hell last year.
Something I had to watch and couldn't do anything about besides watch over her by her bedside and hold her hand.
Oh don't you fucking look at me like that across the screen, Jack. Better they know than bust your balls or mine about it later. We lived together, we are friends, sort of. It was home while you were around. Doesn't really feel the same way when you're out traveling.
Can't exactly be a shadow when you aren't around. Nothing to cast a light on to make me show up.
A house is only a home when the people who live there are together.
Her weekly texts are a nice reprieve.
Last one read as such:
"Don't work too hard, asshole. And don't worry, I miss you too, you rat bastard."
In Jack talk, that was one of the sweetest things she's ever said to me. Bitch. Now I miss her even more. And I was writing to keep these feelings.. sort of.. fucking private...
I don't know. I'm working to keep myself from thinking.
The fuck do you want from me? I'm not some one dimensional asshole that sits here and tells Jack that she can't do this, that, or otherwise. I'm a person too.
A shadowy fucking bastard with no sense of self preservation and holding on to a lot of fucking guilt over things I couldn't control. Things I should have never let happen.
Jack got me to where I am right now. Helped me become the man I am. So I feel obligated to help, and as much as I hate to admit it to anyone, I'd hate it if she died.
Seriously. And I know you're reading this, Jack. Don't die on me now.
Ugh. All of this sentimental bullshit is going to give me a migraine.
Forget it, I'm going back to working on dossiers. At least those won't make me think about my current mindset and let me avoid any real confrontation with my emotions.
First one on my list...
Is Jack.
WHAT IN THE EFFERVESCENT FUCK!
- From the desk of Section Chief Tag
Nice use of the word 'effervescent.'🙄
ReplyDeleteThe difference between the word 'guilt' and the word 'regret' is small but important: intent.
Did you mean to fuck shit up? If yes, that's guilt?
If you screwed up by accident and wished ya hadn't, that's regret.
Regret will push you forward. Guilt will eat you alive.
Also, don't forget to black out the important/time sensitive info on that dossier. Wouldn't wanna spook any of the locals. ;)
I feel what I feel. Maybe it isn't guilt. Regret? Sure, I'll call it that. Regret. Regret. Regret. Sounds like an alien religious figure. Yes, I didn't mean to fuck shit up. And fine fine. Once I get back to it. I got.. distracted by a certain passerby. You might know him?
ReplyDeleteYes, we've had discussions on the different between guilt and regret.
DeleteYou have never, not once, meant to harm an innocent.
I love you.
You're starting to sound a bit scrambled.
... I love you too. Not in front of the Rabbits... Damn it. And yeah, I'm feeling a bit unwound lately.
ReplyDelete