Restless

For the rest of my life.

I swear, my nerves are trying to crawl through my skin (what a nasty image to picture, though) and I honestly can't stand not having anything to do. I want to do anything creative, like write or paint - especially paint. I can't sit still. I have to keep moving, keep creating long ribbons of thoughts in bright colors and the only reason I'm happy today, and not frustrated, is that today is Friday and soon I won't have to confine my energy, soon I'm not restricted by having to be at work.

Also I'm really excited about my class this fall. It's only part of one I took a few years ago but failed to write the exam for and decided to retake. So, in reality, the only reason I'm doing it is because I was a lazy failure. But that doesn't matter because it means there's somthing to break the monotone.

And as usually, without fail, it's been about six monthes since I changed depaerments at my job which means my patients with working here as run out. It happens every single time. Without fail. It's a pattern, probably one of the very few patterns in my life, one of the few things that stays the same. In spite of that though, I've not tried to break it, change it, stop it. Because, even though it's inconvinent at times, I'm pretty sure I would be by design unable to keep myself in place. That, and the fact that I simply just don't fucking want to.

Never, never, never.

I'm never going to be static.

Oh, and did I mention that I'm fucking happy? I'm happy and restless and honestly, I'm thinking I need to put both those words, those sentiments, in permanent ink upon my skin. Contradicting to have something permanent conveying something dynamic? Maybe. But even though I'm always moving I collect memories along the way. And the most important things I want to keep with me as I speed through time and space, hopefully making the most of this life.