somniare.

sometimes, my head explodes

dumping some mental sewage December 20, 2007

Filed under: hell is other people,my evolution — somniare @ 1:23 am

I have typed and deleted a total of 3 massive entries to get this anger out of my head now. All I’ve been doing is finding myself tangent ranting in bitterness when I know my words will fall only on those who have managed to not contribute to the apocalypse that results from human interaction. For you few, and you know who you are, I ask you to disregard this as it is not directed to you.

I am full of colorful analogies to depict the imagery in my head as people destroy my hope. Imagine bitterness as a plugged in toaster. Now picture someone you once trusted launching that crude weapon into your bath water. Now imagine bitterness as razor wire. Then picture the hands of a person you loved once laying it carefully in a circle around your bed while you sleep. I could go on and on. My more hopeful and peaceful emotions lately have been no more than buzzing flies around putrid, scurrilous garbage. As I find myself once again ensnared in the morbid web of bitterness, I must unleash bits and pieces before I strangle myself with them.

I have finally, after many wasted years found a path. This road is literally paved in land mines. I’ve been making huge leaps and bounds to reach what was previously thought of as unattainable. There are times I wonder if I am doomed to suffer the consequences of poor decisions and misled actions for the rest of my life. Then there are also moments I appreciate the struggle as bridges to avoid a few of the land mines I may find along the way later on. That is far too optimistic for me at this time I’m afraid. I shoulder the blame for my own circumstances as a general rule but I’m sure as hell not going to blame myself for being the victim of shameless sadism. I mean the twisted joy that people get from watching you eviscerate yourself the second you wake up in the morning, climb out of bed, and find yourself tangled in that razor wire they camouflaged so nicely.

You like my bitterness? Does it make the sun shine a bit brighter in your life to watch me die inside? Congratulations. Enjoy it while it lasts because when I take the sun out of the sky and cram it up your ass, you’re not going to have any reason to wonder why the lights went out. Eventually, after I’ve pulled my disfigured body from this wreckage, I will make you as meaningless as you would have been had your father’s seed been nothing more than a stain on your harlot mother’s sheets. I will lay here, seemingly helpless, but the second you blink your eyes, I will scrape your face from your skull with a rusty spoon.

True bitterness comes without shame. It rises to the surface like pure black oil on the toxic salt ocean Regardless of the turbulent nature of the sea and all external effects, anything haplessly falling into it will perish. Self preservation comes before all else… I’m simply feeding off of it. While the laws of this world save such flesh-wastes from my actually living out my morbid fantasies, there are many much more creative ways to lash out. No need to dedicate your life to watching me suffer because that is a lost cause. Just as I would never dedicate my life to seeking retribution. Nothing pains more than trying and failing over and over. I’m not failing, merely struggling and as I find myself with at least one tangible piece of true happiness, meanwhile those that opted to inflict their idiocy on me will be able to tally yet another fail on their prison walls.

Oh yes, there’s always hope… there’s your optimism.

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2 Responses to “dumping some mental sewage”

  1. starchildskiss78 Says:

    I know how you feel! There are days I would like to slaughter every single cow in my path…most are coworkers and customers. Someone needs to tell them that the customer is not always right! *hugs her tight and helps her find a rusty spoon*

  2. Jon Says:

    I know you said to disregard this, but I couldn’t help myself. “Scurrilous” and “a stain on your harlot mother’s sheets” all in the same diatribe? This is some of your sharpest writing. Anger is a fine whetstone in my experience–and yours too, it appears. Keep at it. And love.


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