Time For Me To Stop
Time didn't change anything much. I found myself feeling familiar. I was that little girl of 19 crying in the staircase.
At my first hotel, the lounge is on the 19th floor. And the girls, after some verbal bashing for Stella in the AHU room, would be on the staircase in between 20th and 21st floor. 21st floor doesn't exist. But it was a staircase leading upstairs to the water tanks. And that, was where we all hid to cry.
And Stella always knew where to find us. She would scream from the staircase on the 19th floor. For us to stop feeling sorry for our sorry ass.
Stella was a pain. But after verbal bashings, she was always apologetic and never short of cookie supplies.
Right about now, the difference is, the location of which I find myself crying. This is a much bigger hotel. And there has been so many spots I found myself crying my eyes out. Empty offices, empty toilets, empty staircases. What else is new.
It is raining outside. And it's pouring. And I remember how it was like in my old lobby. At least I had children to call my own, and a lobby to call mine. Right about now and right about this moment, I don't know if I have anything to call my own. Okay. Wrong. Maybe that latte to go. That's mine. Maybe my watch, that's also mine.
The phones, no.
The Pod, no.
The office, no.
Time for me to stop. All I have been doing this morning was going, "What are you doing, Shine!! What are you doing?!"
I don't know how to answer that.
I don't want to go see Chairwoman. Or my new best friend. Chairwoman will think it's someone and my new best friend will think it's someone else. All the preassumptions.
I didn't help along the way. I couldn't be bothered to correct them. I couldn't be bothered to correct myself.
I am still stabbing myself. I am still doing whatever it is I am doing. I am still sitting at this desk. I am still pained. I am still broken. I am still here. I am still complaining. And I am not doing anything about it.
It's time to stop. Because I really don't know why and what I am doing to myself.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's always Justin. There's always Jules.
Keep this weekend packed tight and spare no time for idle thoughts. Don't stay alone. Don't dwell in this. Don't pick up the phone and text.
Just stop.
At my first hotel, the lounge is on the 19th floor. And the girls, after some verbal bashing for Stella in the AHU room, would be on the staircase in between 20th and 21st floor. 21st floor doesn't exist. But it was a staircase leading upstairs to the water tanks. And that, was where we all hid to cry.
And Stella always knew where to find us. She would scream from the staircase on the 19th floor. For us to stop feeling sorry for our sorry ass.
Stella was a pain. But after verbal bashings, she was always apologetic and never short of cookie supplies.
Right about now, the difference is, the location of which I find myself crying. This is a much bigger hotel. And there has been so many spots I found myself crying my eyes out. Empty offices, empty toilets, empty staircases. What else is new.
It is raining outside. And it's pouring. And I remember how it was like in my old lobby. At least I had children to call my own, and a lobby to call mine. Right about now and right about this moment, I don't know if I have anything to call my own. Okay. Wrong. Maybe that latte to go. That's mine. Maybe my watch, that's also mine.
The phones, no.
The Pod, no.
The office, no.
Time for me to stop. All I have been doing this morning was going, "What are you doing, Shine!! What are you doing?!"
I don't know how to answer that.
I don't want to go see Chairwoman. Or my new best friend. Chairwoman will think it's someone and my new best friend will think it's someone else. All the preassumptions.
I didn't help along the way. I couldn't be bothered to correct them. I couldn't be bothered to correct myself.
I am still stabbing myself. I am still doing whatever it is I am doing. I am still sitting at this desk. I am still pained. I am still broken. I am still here. I am still complaining. And I am not doing anything about it.
It's time to stop. Because I really don't know why and what I am doing to myself.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. There's always Justin. There's always Jules.
Keep this weekend packed tight and spare no time for idle thoughts. Don't stay alone. Don't dwell in this. Don't pick up the phone and text.
Just stop.
posted by Shine at 8/02/2006 03:19:00 PM
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