Sick.

I’m sick of ignorance and people being closed minded.  I’m sick of being angry. I’m sick of seeing and hearing and living the same shit but nothing ever changes.  I’m sick of being bored. How am I 23 and bored? I should be out saving the world or having amazing sex or traveling. I shouldn’t already have a life full of regrets. I’m sick of already knowing what I’ll regret in 10, 20, 50 years. I’m sick of not knowing how to change it.

I’m sick of you assuming I’m just like you. That my family is just like yours. That my beliefs are yours.

I’m sick of little stupid things I shouldn’t be bothered by. Like the way her face looks stupid, the way she says certain words. The way her faces looks when she isn’t getting her way. What fucking adult actually pouts? I’m sick of the way she says “what do you get” instead of what did you get, as if I always get the same thing. I don’t. I like to try new things. I’m sick of knowing I shouldn’t judge her for that but goddammit it’s so frustrating that she’s so boring and totally fine with it. We need those people, though. To keep everything moving while I’m over here losing my goddamn mind.

I’m sick of knowing I’m not good at my job. I’m not bad but I’m not the best and I hate that. I’m sick of knowing I’d be really good at something else – but not knowing what that thing is.

I’m sick of people buying things just to buy them. This girl at work bought a French press but puts too much goddamn creamer in her coffee that she won’t be able to taste the difference. And then she’ll bitch that she wasted her money. Which she did, because it was a cheap press to begin with. It’ll break and she’ll be angry and I’ll want to say I told you so but I can’t because she’ll be upset.

I’m sick of stupid fucking stories that people tell. I don’t care why you bought the French press. I don’t care why you drunk texted your ex. I don’t care about your mortgages and your refinancing.

I’m sick of not caring. I’m sick of being so frustrated. I’m sick of being this annoyed by all of it.

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