12s

Twelve hour shifts. Why are they legal?

My Own Salt

My friend told me a story about coming home with salt and groceries the other day. I want to have that feeling. I want to be able to go out and buy groceries for myself and come home to my own home. I want to buy my own salt. I don’t want to live with my parents anymore. Very desperately do I want to get the hell out. I should have been out years ago but things keep happening so that I have to stay, or that there’d be no point in moving. I want to be able to touch the thermostat. To have more than one friend over at a time, and to speak louder than a whisper past 11pm. To be able to drop something, or make any sort of a noise without someone bellowing up from downstairs asking what that noise was. To not be summoned downstairs by someone banging on the wall. To not be 24 and still living with my parents. If my friend (one in specific) were reliable I wouldn’t be in this situation, but I would probably be complaining about him instead.

Drugs

Journal Block

I'm having a tough time of trying to post in this thing regularly. I'm willing to bet it's because I'm doing this school thing, and I'm more focused on my site. I have a lot of other things to do too. I want to write in this journal. I guess I have nothing to say and I shouldn't force it. I stared at this blank space for 5 minutes before I started typing this.

kay, that's it.

Drivin

This one time I was driving and a truck needed to turn right in front of me to get into the intersection he wanted. There was a driver behind me and they backed up so I could back up and let the truck pass. It was nuts, I've never had anyone want to work together to help each other out on the road before. It's always a race or a contest when I drive. Pretty much me trying to avoid everyone else on the road. I feel like no one cares about ramming into me when I drive. As if they feel invincible, and that there's no way their 2 ton chunk of metal that moves at high speeds couldn't possibly collide with anything.

Another thought.

When I was little I would get into my parents cars and pretend to drive. When I would move the steering wheel it would lock up so I couldn't fuck with the wheels, and it was the most disappointing feeling. I wonder if they installed that feature because they didn't want kids fucking around with cars.

Dreams