I've been repressing these emotions for so long that if I get provoked one more fucking time, I swear to Jesus H. Christ and everything that is holy, I will hunt you down and beat you to a bloody pulp with a fucking baseball bat– and I will enjoy every. Fucking. Minute. Of it. Now once I see the life disappear from your eyes, I'll have a nice, cold beer, piss on what remains of your worthless, mutilated body, use your eye sockets as fucking ashtrays; and do exactly the same thing to anyone who so much as attempts to help you.
2 comments:
i get this very much. which is why the only item that remains in what used to be a very long checklist of things i look for in a guy is this: being able to be strong for me when i can't.
hang in there, moe. :) let's have that long overdue existential question and answer inom tambay very soon and commiserate about times when life refuses to give even the rotten lemons very soon.
I'm down like Charlie Brown.
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