you would think that I wouldnt like this, you would think that a girl like me, a silly fool like me would have concerns about working in a warehouse, a dirty place full of carboard castles and box cutter brigades.. where I can wear shorts and walk barefoot on oil stained floors, crunching paper bits as I walk.
They leave me alone here, alone enough to eat my crackers and tuna. Quiet enough for a muffin and to write the words only a warehouse girl would know.
Funny. When they asked if I would mind switching jobs, I was a bit dissapointed. But in some wierd twist of fate - I like this better. I can sing all day, walk barefoot and make up funny little stories about corner catapillers and ceiling spiders that seemingly only sing poetry at night, woven into wordless webs and cardboard corners..
you would think that a girl like me wouldn't like this warehouse world... you would think that but you would be wrong.
This is a collection of journal entries. A compilation of thoughts that I have written in the margins of books, words scribbled out on the back of paper napkins and sentences taken from the lines of an old notebook. I doubt this will ever be read, But if you happen to stumble across it? Please be careful. Its all I have..
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