anger....

if i don't do something about this rage, i'll explode.

just call me stew from now on.  it's the perfect word to describe my hatred... this loathing that just sits and stews and boils... it's consuming in all ways... in ways i didn't know were possible.

i want to destroy. just call me tyler durden.
i am jack's inflamed sense of rejection.
i am jack's broken heart.
i'm drowning in blood.

where is that fucking happy place of mine? where did i put it? like so many other things, it's been misplaced. lost or forgotten.
i'll just jump on the bandwagon and leave. maybe this is my chance?
one way ticket to Paris, to my beloved Moulin Rouge. surely the world is waiting for me... right?

will they have my brand of hair products? the right kind of oatmeal?

if i stay away, i'll never come back. can't you see that? my well-being is at stake.

when you talk, i want to scratch your eyes out. pull your tongue out through your ass. i can't listen anymore. if you talk to me, i'll scream. i'll start to cry and go mad. but you won't care, b/c you're a bitch on a leash. with your cool rational... fucker. you're on my shit list, you fuck! there aren't enough 'bad' words to describe my contempt for you. you can go ahead and die for all i care. you and that miserable whore....

if i had a tumor, i'd name it....

put a gun to my head and paint the walls with my brains...