Three posts in one day. Act of god. Also known as me.
So, here we are, having come full circle. Creative ways to disappear completely (and never be found). Fighting the suffocation. Running until suffocation seems somewhat pleasant. Endorphin release for about an hour - fuck all you runners who claim 'Oooo it relieves stress and you feel so much better after!' If that was fucking true, then doctors wouldn't exist and neither would shrinks.
Shower. Try to cleanse myself of these cloying feelings. Fail. Sit like a good boy a get driven to some new fucking shrink's where I get to disembowel myself (again) to some cunt who figures he has a grasp on just about whatever walks in through that door of his. (He has another thing coming.) Leave. Feel the urge to burst into tears despite the grizzled, tattooed asshole sitting in the waiting room. Don't talk on the ride home.
Come home. Have people tell me they understand me, they know me, they knew me. Feel the blood boil - try to simmer down but fail, again. In a very measured tone concede I'm about to flip my shit, and go downstairs and scream all the hate anthems and the lamentations I can think of. Fuck up the octave in Heresy - lose my shit and whip the microphone and stand holding it to the ground, breaking it, or so I hope. Come back upstairs, give banal replies. Accept and swallow there isn't hope and just get the urge to cry or laugh again. Maybe both. Give clipped responses to the people too stupid to give up on me, and try to bite my tongue but fail. Realize I exceed at failing.
Two words, to the world too little said - "Fuck off".
-M
