Seriously.
It's like. WHOOF. BANG. Let's just punch the living daylights out of you, right here, right now. Sweat-oozing, saliva-dripping, blood-splattering punching fiesta.
Oh, what fun. Oh, what joy. Oh, what release.
The problem is, the fiesta is just in my head. The problem is, the anger is internal. The problem is, I can't externalize it. Don't know how.
Anger at yourself. Anger at the other. Anger at the situation. Anger at the world.
Don't know why I bother. Seriously I might stop bothering... right... about.... now.
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