dreaming of more

Tweet

I see, but I don't see. Likewise, I hear, but I don't hear. I see beauty. I see laughter. I see love. I see the little things which others may not notice. And yet, it is possible that I miss out on seeing the things I really should see. Or maybe I simply choose to {subconsciously} ignore those things I really should see. She doesn't want me. I sit here twiddling my thumbs, surplus to requirements. She asked for support but then refuses support when it's made available. Everybody else is working, chatting to their neighbour about their ideas and getting inspiration. I will check on her in a moment; she appears to be becoming feisty, her laughter far too loud, her words too shouty. She's okay. She's looking at wedding hair, gathering ideas and pictures to put into her Hair Styles scrapbook. Elaborate twists, fancy curls and sparkly accessories. Beautiful. Her friend needs help, but will only accept it from her. I try, but I get sullen looks and moody silences. I walk away, leave them to it. After all, I'm getting paid for sitting here, writing this. What do I care? In complete contrast, my lesson this afternoon will be challenging and leave me feeling satisfied. It will no doubt also bring my nauseating headache back, but at least the time will fly by and I'll actually be earning my meagre wages. Then I can go home and dream of a better day tomorrow.