Violence will be entering my life again. Yay. Fuck.
If you had any idea whats lengths I've gone to in my life to always seek out the peaceful solution, then you'd understand why I'm an insomniac with ulcers. Sleepless nights and acidic sores for feeling shame and guilt over doing the right thing; my reward for holding back a sea of anger.
And this too is why this place is killing me.
I'm going to have to ban someone from the pool hall, and he's not going to go down quietly. But this shouldn't be a problem. An actual fight is unlikely, and even if it did happen, the odds are heavy in my favor. And even if they weren't, I still have an army of people there who'd love to see him bleed and weep (weeping is pretty much guarantee with this whiney fuck). So I shouldn't worry.
But I hate it. I hate having to step up and lose control of my anger. I hate the fact that someone is so stupid that they'd put themselves in that position without giving me a happier alternative. I hate the fact that another person has gone out their way to drain my vast resevoir of patience to add their name to my extensive shit list. All I wanted was a nice, quiet job working for my brother and serving our friends while having time to do my homework during the slow stretches. Why can't I go outside without someone nominating me the sheriff?
The last time I did this, everyone who was supposed to have my back decided to either abandon it or bury a knife in it. If that happens this time, this means even family can betray me. If it happens this time, then I'll drop everything and leave finally; last semester be damned.
I hate this side of me and I hate everyone for making me look at it.
If you had any idea whats lengths I've gone to in my life to always seek out the peaceful solution, then you'd understand why I'm an insomniac with ulcers. Sleepless nights and acidic sores for feeling shame and guilt over doing the right thing; my reward for holding back a sea of anger.
And this too is why this place is killing me.
I'm going to have to ban someone from the pool hall, and he's not going to go down quietly. But this shouldn't be a problem. An actual fight is unlikely, and even if it did happen, the odds are heavy in my favor. And even if they weren't, I still have an army of people there who'd love to see him bleed and weep (weeping is pretty much guarantee with this whiney fuck). So I shouldn't worry.
But I hate it. I hate having to step up and lose control of my anger. I hate the fact that someone is so stupid that they'd put themselves in that position without giving me a happier alternative. I hate the fact that another person has gone out their way to drain my vast resevoir of patience to add their name to my extensive shit list. All I wanted was a nice, quiet job working for my brother and serving our friends while having time to do my homework during the slow stretches. Why can't I go outside without someone nominating me the sheriff?
The last time I did this, everyone who was supposed to have my back decided to either abandon it or bury a knife in it. If that happens this time, this means even family can betray me. If it happens this time, then I'll drop everything and leave finally; last semester be damned.
I hate this side of me and I hate everyone for making me look at it.
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Here's a big
The book is going to be read today. I was finishing another.