Cubicle

This Box seems to get smaller every day. I took some of the post-its down to make it seem bigger than it is. Its funny how I'm surrounded by so many roaring people yet I'm secluded in so many ways.
The guy right across from me is loud. His attempt to hide is hair loss is almost amusing but mostly pathetic. He cracks a joke and laughs.. I just role my eyes. The Guy to the left of comb over is the loudest. Constantly speaking American Spanish and reiterating how excited he is for lunch. Which now that I think about it he has ass shakes the weak floor beneath. He isn't fat by any means. But his passion for eating has consumed his lower body to the masses.
The girl to my right only comes in at about 2PM. Sometimes I notice but mostly she is just suddenly there. I don't believe she has said a word to me the whole time we've sat next to each other. She is Quiet.. reserved. Her silence almost comes across as up tight or conceded, but its mostly focused silence.
The girl to my left is the most annoying yet incidently my favorite. We have random conversations about ignorant people, art, or maybe the way we both slack with our efforts. What's the point? They don't seem to notice me much anyway. Left girl. yeah. She likes to print off paper sculptures off of the internet and put them together at her desk. Her surroundings have become a entourage of paper figurines and trinkets. The paper horse stares at me. I would rip it up if it weren't the only thing acknowledging I'm even here. Her hollow friends are creepy at times but sadly its the only Box here that has character. Even more than my own.
My Box use to have style... originality. I use to make the best of my time in my little house in the middle of the row. But as the time goes by so does my patience. As other peoples mistakes go overlooked so do my efforts. I find myself being less enthusiastic about the things my eyes use to light up at.
The Box is suffocating me. Crushing my ambitions, my hopes, and my characteristics. The handsome boy who once seized the day and had adventures every second of the wondrous day now sits in a cage and stares at twelve inch screen that displays his attitude.
I often catch myself just staring out the giant windows wishing I were on top of the beautiful mountains that are displayed to the west. I sip my ice water and imagine it came from the springs that might run through the forests.
Random smells sometimes emerge from the corners of the 2nd floor. Smells of cinnamon, oranges, and sometimes the awkward stench of "Thieves".
I sit uneasily in my swivel chair with the broken arm as a sad thought approaches my mind. "I sit in this Box for eight hours wishing my life away only to go home and sit in yet another bigger Box." I can't decide which one makes me feel more alone.
It is 3:20 PM... I'm almost done for the day. I'm excited because its Friday, but sad because I'm afraid it will be empty. I do have options. I could find things to do and people to hang out with. But no matter how jam packed I make my Friday nights I still feel hollow.
I close out of the programs on the computer and tidy up the slab of wood I call my desk and ready myself to escape the bland grey square that sadly controls my life. The seconds seem to creep slowly by. Ticking for what seems like hours.
When its finally time to bid this town of Boxes good night. I leave with relief but with a tiny bug pinching my back. A bug that gnaws and bites telling me I'll be right back there in a matter of 72 hours. And while that thought can live there for the full two days and somewhat hours. Its not as painful as the thought that he still isn't there... and I'm alone.