Monotonous


That's what life has become. We all settle into a comfortable everyday routine that gets all too familiar after awhile.

Too familiar.

Some people, they want a simple life. They want to be simple people. But you know what? It is not our choice whether we are simple or have simple lives.

I'm different. I don't want a monotonous simple life. I want a life with lots of "winging", no plans, no stability, a so-called dangerous life. A life that's as complicated as it gets. I want an abstract life, full of adventure, and stories that I can wow my grandchildren with.

But sadly, not everyone gets what they want. I lead a relatively simple life, no matter how complicated I want it to be, and am a relatively simple person, no matter how complicated I make myself out to be. Or at least that's how I feel.

I've done stupid, stupid things that I regret and will be regretting for the rest of my life. This much I know. BUT, we all live through our regrets, wondering what could have been while hiding behind the mask of a seemingly innocent person.

Riding keeps me sane, because it is insanely dangerous. It is exactly the pill I need to tear myself away from the monotony.

At times, when you see me with a poker face (i.e when I'm out with Lazychoo's friends), I stare blankly at the wall in front of me. Not stoning, not thinking philosophically, but envisioning. Visualizing. Fantasizing if you may, of sinking my fists into the wall. Imagining that the wall has ridges all the way down, and pounding my knuckes against those ridges, smearing the wall with beautiful red.

The red keeps me sane.

There is no way to stop the pain, as everyone who's lived through it can tell you, but there is a way to stop the tears. To hurt on the outside, more that it hurts on the inside. But leaving scars would be catastrophic, as I have done. People start getting concerned and asking Hey Jazzy! What the hell happened to your arm?! so much that I had to have it bandaged up, which invariably drew even more attention.

Take a hot shower. Hot. Hotter. There. Even hotter a little. Watch in wonder as the bathroom mirror fogs up. Then the walls. Then the shampoo bottles. Watch in wonder as smoke surrounds you and your skin turns redder each second. And just before the first of the tears slip out, back your head into the steaming stream from the faucet.

You won't cry. I promise.

I want to travel. All over the world. Meet all kinds of people. Make all kinds of friends.

I want to lead a dangerous life. Living on the edge. You'll never get tired of living.

I want to love as much as I can. As much as I want. As much as I am loved.

Who am I?

I am just a girl who's locked up in a cage. Work. Eat. Watch cartoon. Sleep. Repeat. On Fridays, Saturdays and any special occasions, I get to meet Lazychoo's friends. Something must be wrong because we can't find anything to do together when alone, but we can do everything with his friends.

Special occasions for the special one? Screw that, let's spend that special time with the entire gang. Special dates? Screw those, we're going out with other people. Because we don't know where to go alone, we don't know what to do. We can't spend money ourselves, we MUST, simply MUST spend money with them even though we're going broke soon.

Why do I want to fly off alone? What do you think?