Of those frustrated feels...

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You know you are in the wrong job, when you perform 10 times better than all the other co-workers and get paid less than them.
When they are all male. And you the only female.

When the management stoops low. And yelling is all over the place. That obnoxious fat lady that runs around showing her flabby arms and quiet KC, just trying. to. do. his. job.

There were many dreams, but this wasn't even remotely connected to what I wanted to be. The price to pay to stay in CA is no good. Down the line in a few years with wrinkles on face, angry temperaments and sadness....

Change is some invisible sheet of water/air/glass, that is getting impermeable. I see people all around doing all what I wanted to. Write. Design. Be creative. I can stay alive with less money, but not with this everyday headache.

This one is for suckers, those smokers and video game addicts (maybe porn too), the teenagers stuck in the 20+yo people.
This hateful thing taking away all the energy that is all so unproductive for the future. The job I hate talking about. The job I make stories about. And inside, I know. How much of pity its to carry on.
And in the tryst of talking to myself am shutting out people. The annoyance is unreal.

I wonder what the 18 yo would be thinking looking up to me. The kid with big fears, dreams and art and all the zeal to try but never was able to follow the heart.

Smiling everyday. And so worn out inside. Hell, I can't talk to anyone what I feel. No one listens. No one. All they try is to give answers, i never want.

Thanks you, from the lives of white screens and keyboards!

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