waiting for godot

every night I lament that each passing day feels as if I'm waiting for something -- the next phone call, the next order from my mother, the next hour to pass.

Human beings were not meant to be shoved into holding patterns. And I have been in one for far too long.

So much that I'm not sure how to get out of it. Nor that it's anything really worth writing about, but there's really not much worth writing about these days.

And it's the same old story over and over, one my friends grow tired of, and it's hard to keep bringing it up...but I don't know what to do.

So I'll just sit here, quietly, and waste away. It seems to be the only option.

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waiting for godot

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