Thoughtless.

Nothingness.

Letting my mind wander free, coming to terms with this lack of concentration that I am feeling and just letting my fingers go through its exercise of typing letters into words.

I have to get back into the grove of things and I’m starting with going back to my roots, my basics of writing things that have no meaning and just doesn’t make any sense.

Words.

Coming together to form sentences.

Drunk and mysterious…

* * *

There she is, working again today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.

The last few times that I did it was on her day off, coming in here just to hang out with her cohorts and doing whatever she is doing.

Today is different. She’s working today, back behind the counter, working. No time to talk as I am plugged in, typing away.

Will words pass between us today? I don’t know, but the day is still early. Hopefully maybe things will happen.

Let’s just say things are still early.

Now it just makes me wonder, what is her story?

As I just notice some stranger walking into the shop, we made eye contact and she just smiled and said “Hi.”.

Back to the story, back to the question, back to the things at hand.

What is her story?

* * *

Let’s call her Jasmine.

She started her way back in college a few years back and after graduation she decided to stay on the job, not full time, but as part time to make some extra cash on the weekends and maybe the late shift. It’s just a job that helps her unwind, to put her mind away from her regular 9-5 of being an accountant, pushing numbers all day.

Jasmine works and works, putting her hours in crunching numbers, matching statements processing invoices, keeping the company’s budget. She goes in and comes out, day after day, living the daily grind.

But there is something lacking in that life. There is a lack of passion that comes with a practical job and that lack of umph is severely hampering her enjoyment of life.

Sure she had dreams of something bigger when she was younger. Who didn’t, but the die didn’t roll in her favor; snake eyes. First roll and she’s out.

But Jasmine’s job here keeps her going. It is the only outlet she has outside of her job. The friends that she’s made here having given her the push to go on, living, realizing that life is worth living….

* * *

Cold air blowing on my head, freezing my scalp.

It distracts me from my usual finger tappings that I have become use to.

It distracts me from writing anything well and anything worthwhile.

I struggle to pull something out of my poor brain of mine, but nothing comes.

It is just mindless rambling of nothing.

Usually I am no oppose to nothings, but only if it is just sweet nothings.

This. This. It is some other beast.

* * *

Back with the backers.

Long gone and back now with something new and something different.

All is gone all is lost.

No more. No more.

London Bridges is back and she’s looking good. She looks great, in better shape; slimmed down, baby fat gone. Still cute as ever and she’s back.

* * *

Hold on for one more day…

Losing my mind in this constant drowning.

* * *

Really struggling to come up with something.

I’ve never been through something like this before. This is really difficult.