Today is the day to quit this job-- or at least give the boss a two-week notice. I told myself that I won't get anywhere in this job, so the only way to be recognized is to resign- though I do not care about recognition. I am rotting while working in here. But nope, none of that happened- I did not mention anything about resignation to my boss today. I did not see her. I arrived early to work this morning, I gave myself extra time due to the heavy snowstorm. I stared at one of my napping patient for a long time, and I saw the despair in his closed eyes. His eyes opened abruptly, the sound of laughter on the television screen, and the madness that constantly echoes throughout this asylum, woke him up from sleep.
Christmas is approaching quickly, and I asked if he had any plans for the holidays. He said no, he'll be here, in this building- not expecting any visitors. I gave him the television remote to change the broadcast station, and he said he wanted to watch The Pursuit of Happyness.
Of course, it was not on at the time.
The day went by quickly and the commute back to my apartment was an uncomfortable one. I tried thinking about Christmas, but it just made things worse. Pain makes a person very delusional, and one of my tooth been bothering me for a few days already. Unfortunately, my dentist appointment is not scheduled till New Year's Eve. The subway trains were pretty filthy today (nothing new actually), puddles of blacken snow slush were everywhere, and the carts were frigid cold. I complain too much. Brittany Murphy died today- which sucks because I do actually like her.
Well I got back home a few hours ago, skipping dinner. Lethargy. I opened a bottle of Stella Artois with my multi-purpose switchblade. I suppose lager can be a meal replacement, and I know it's not the smartest one. Downstair neighbors baked cupcakes, not in the mood for sweets. I had a huge lunch today anyway. Television. Football games. Poker tournaments on ESPN. Some FaceBook. And now I'm going to bed. Good night all.
The tear droplets dance in my heart as the rain taps on the Parisian roof. I ponder why the floor is slippery- Did the Hole find a home on my red roof?
Oh! The pleasant rain droplets sing- the roof is drumming an earthly beat for a sad discontented heart! Oh! The weeping song of my heart!
It jovially cries without a reason by the broken rooftop Only to find an empty heart of betrayal! Alluding to An act of melancholy but for what reason?
The rain floods my home- the damage is done. I carelessly ponder without pondering why My heart cannot feel the presence of hate and love-- The damage is done, by the accursed rain.
(Roughly translated from French by me)
Original poem by Paul Verlaine:
Il pleure dans mon coeur
Comme il pleut sur la ville.
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénêtre mon coeur ?
O bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un coeur qui s’ennuie,
O le chant de la pluie !
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce coeur qui s’écoeure.
Quoi ! nulle trahison ?
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C’est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi,
Sans amour et sans haine,
Mon coeur a tant de peine.
Oh this paper road, we've become to walk on Instead of waves, we've become rocks on trees-- letters and then words, words that obey an order the system of syntax, the nature of sound itself The nature that sings to us, a story within us The vines that entangles our spines, with thorns of kisses on the wound, the frustrating chaos that is told by oneself, the spores of lifeforms, the fern that curls into itself, generation by generations forming a hallway towards the abyss
True
