The blackness is calling. Been calling for a while now.
Quit your job, hurt somebody, hurt yourself- just not too
bad. Escape, destroy, obliterate. Kill
something. See how it feels. You won’t
be the first.
Pushed beyond the point of no return, some really special
things may start to happen.
A new restaurant is opening. So what? I don’t feel any more
freedom because of it. Burn that mother fucker down. Dance in the ashes. Enjoy prison.
The noise, artificial light, and faux candor have all gotten
to be a bit much.
Limp Bizkit had a song …“break shit”. Jeez, that guy really made a lot of money
from his anger. He’s not the only one…. . Wait a minute though, was Fred Durst
really that angry? Seems a bit like a counterfeit to me. Oh wait, that’s a Limp Bizkit song too “Counterfeit”.
Am I actually Fred Durst?
For the record, I don’t think Fred was really too angry at
all. I know two or three people who truly know anger. I’m talking about real
anger. In comparison, Fred is like a big
fluffy bear.
Back to the future part VII. My neighbors are assholes.
Well, not all of them; just the one that put the gun to my head. Maybe he was trying
to teach me something. Who knows. Hmmm… I
don’t feel any more learned. Maybe I just
didn’t understand what he was trying to teach me.
Anger of a thousand nights.
Some have not yet felt the pure helplessness and utter frustration of
true anger. Give it a little while. It comes to all. Free for the taking.
Sitting in a dark room by oneself. Social construct #249. GOOOOOOO TEAM!!!!!!!!
