Purgatory or Bust.

Well here we are. Two more weeks of school and still in classes. I feel like it should be summer right now.  I don’t want to work. I don’t even want to play. What I want… what I really want… I’ll tell you what I want, what I really, really want. I want a hammock. With my hammock I would like a pair of trees. It would be nice if with the pair of trees I were to recieve an open field a blue sky a warm sun and a crate of allergy medicine. I (like many of you) want to sleep. I want time to rest! I don’t even want to socialize anymore. I feel like I need a month, neigh, a year to sleep. To think. To organize everything. I wish I had more time to plan.

I want a year during which I wont have to accomplish anything. A year when my life won’t go on. I want to linger and ponder on subjects that I just don’t have time to think about. I don’t want to see the world. I dont want write a book. I just want to exist. To not grow. To not change. I want purgatory.

Nothing! that is what I want. I ask nothing and I shall recieve nothing. I will not bother others and others will not bother me. I’m not saying I want to do nothing for a year. Just survive. I will survive on my own. Perhaps shrouded in wildlife or maybe in and amongst the concrete jungle. I will hunt or work for food. I will pay my dues.

I want a job. I dont want a promotion, I dont want alot of money, I just want a job. Nothing too fancy. Everyone always tells me to work toward a job I can enjoy. I don’t want to enjoy my job. Ever. I want a job that I will hate. I want a boss that wont warn me when he changes my shifts around and wont let me take those two or three weeks off in the summer. I want a job that will get me up in the morning, not because I’m excited but because I’m scared that if I’m late I will be yelled. I want a job that doesn’t change. That I will get bored of after a week, and that I will be able to do without thinking after a year. I don’t want a job that will involve using my creativity, that would really be hell. Being forced to speak my mind? My thoughts are my thoughts and thats the way I like it.

I hate suburbia.