I'm tired of all of this.

It’s always been the same. I doubt if I had done anything else in my existence. I’ve been at this job for years, and I have had enough.

Enough, I tell you.

I find myself drifting to my favorite spot – where I stay to think and watch the world continue without me. The solitary bench beside the empty lot is, as always, empty. I don’t think anyone else goes to sit on that bench. Maybe someone saw me there once. Then again, why would someone passing by pay any attention to me? In a way, I can just blend in and go unnoticed.

Maybe that’s it. People never really notice me until I practically jump into their faces. Take now, for instance. Every person who walks past doesn’t even give this place a second glance. It’s just there. I’m just there.

I don’t know.

I can’t bring myself to do something… anything.

There’s that kid who lives two blocks away, walking home with his mother. Right on time, as always. They always go by at this time. I reckon he did something fun at school today. He’s practically jumping with excitement while recounting his day to his mom.

I wonder if I can be that happy about what I do again.

God, I can be so scatterbrained at times.

I know I should be happy with what I do. All of my friends say I’m good at it. Everything always comes naturally for me, according to them. They’ve given me the “Perfect Role Model” award for three years running now.

I remember the first day I got involved in it all. I found the experience exhilarating. Fulfilling.

Now I don’t.

I wish I could talk to my mother about this. She always seemed to know the right answers to, well, everything. That’s the luxury of being a kid. Your parents always know the answers. All is right with the world until you grow up, and they don’t hold the answers anymore.

There’s the old lady, on the way back to her apartment. She’s done walking her poodle around the block. I never liked poodles. I find them annoying. Little bits of jumpy cotton that zooms around, making everyone around them act like fools just to catch them. Once, I got so irritated by her poodle’s constant yapping that I scared that dog senseless. It refused to go out of the apartment for a week.

I’m not making any sense, am I? I’m just so confused…

This has to stop. Nothing makes sense anymore.

The damn poodle is madly barking at me again. I have half a mind to scalp it, but I can’t.

Damn it! Someone passed through me again. I hate it when that happens.

That’s it, I’m going on vacation. I can’t be the “Perfect Role Model” titlist for this year if I don’t get myself together and impress all those newbie ghosts, after all.

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» Author's Notes: I did this short piece for the Creative Writing class I took two years ago. Yes, I recently unearthed it and thought, 'Why not upload it on FicPress?' So here it is. I know it's a little weird, but I just wanted to write it. :P It may come across as a little existentialist - though I make this observation just now. Anyway, I hope you liked it. Reviews are most welcome. :)