There are just some things I can't stomach. Well, actually, there are a lot of things I can't digest easily since I have the the most pissy prissy guts in the world and wouldn't you know, the easiest stuff to go down is junkfood. Sorry broccoli, my colon just doesn't like you. I personally don't have a problem, but the colon, she does.
Today my burping, gurgling indigestion is caused by computers. The internet. And the wacko fuckjob asshole hypocrites that live behind my finger-printed screen. The wars that are perpetuated by those who proclaim, with rusty halo's hanging crooked over there heads, to be fostered fueled and finished by others. When in reality, you know, the reality that is actually...real, they are liars and thieves and frauds. And since I can't literally punch those who deserve it in the face, I choose to remove my fists from the equation. That's the power I have.
There are honorable people that live in this box. This is know. Those who reach out and accept. Who's hearts are lovely and intentions genuine. But I believe there are more bad people than good. And I believe that you increase your chances 20-fold by dabbling in cyber-relationships, in crossing paths with vipers and psychos, and willingly jumping into a pond inhabited by disease-infested leeches, over and over and over.
Be assured that some of us see past these angelic masks that hide warts and horns. Rest your knotted skulls on the fact that what you think is a friend has put your soul up for the highest bidder, waiting for the right offer. And you will be sold to slaughter in due time. And those who continue to stand next to evil are nowhere near nice. So please stop shining that beam in our eyes, some of us aren't blinded by your false proclamations. You make me sick.
I've had my fill. It's bubbling up into my throat like burning bile. The acid these disgusting excuses for human beings are made of. The thought of powering up my system and reading almost anything make my guts churn. Slightly unreasonable, but the crap I'm having to wade through (right now) for one Baby-Ruth isn't worth it.
It's been a rough month. I've had more than I can handle, which makes me feel like a shmuck compared to those suffering in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. My heart is still bleeding for the people and animals affected by that disaster. But adversity is relative and my world has been heavy with shit for more weeks than I'm able to process easily. And I'm facing another scary scan that is bearing down on me like a freight train and my ability to fake it is temporarily out of order.
I would say I don't have it in me, which is true, but what I do have is aggravation and contempt up to my eyeballs and I'm smart enough to know that when it gets to this point, I need a break. I need to get to a place where the trolls and losers aren't a thought in my pretty little head. Because they don't matter, I know this, but I have an open wound and even the toughest bitch is going to wince if salt is poured in it.
Sometimes the assholes get the upper hand and spray shit all over the place. I'm declaring my own disaster zone and evacuating for the time being, until this stench has cleared. I'm going to stock up on air fresheners. Be back later.
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