As a child, I was notorious for my temper. I don’t know if you’ve seen this, but in cases where it flares, I’m someone quite different. It’s hard to explain, but once someone breaches containment, it’s not likely to shut off soon. I’ll get some ranting done now. I hate you.
You’re fat.
You’re ugly.
You’re a hypocrite.
You’re not smart.
You’re a lame piece of shit, one that is entirely self-concerned and demeaning to others. I hope you die. No, I’ll kill you and chop you to bits, after which, I will burn remainder of you to ashes and feed those to slugs.
I feel a lot better now. Do you understand how it happens? Neither do I, but it certainly is an interesting concept. I’ve been thinking about it, and the more I do, the closer I come to a conclusion. I really just don’t care anymore, but if you tempt me, I will bite.
Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore
To one thing constant never.
Then sigh not so,
But let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into hey nonny nonny!
Have you ever had a book that while reading, you kept getting interrupted? As a result of that sad situation, do you ever end up reading the same page over and over until it becomes boring and monotonous, finally driving you to the edge of a small cliff (or perhaps grassy knoll) and hurl the book and its dullness away in a flaming ball of vengeance? Perhaps you simply get frustrated and put it down, but I like to burn things I don’t like– do you remember the last house that went down? Yea, anyway…
I really wish things were different. I know everyone is trying their best to simply just get along, but a some point, your effort (or perhaps lack thereof) has lulled me to sleep. I’ve read to myself so many times a desire to make things better– to actually have friends for once in my life that I’ve become sick of it, and quite literally, sick of you. No joke, seeing you actually makes me want to throw up in my mouth a little. What a tease is this emotion though, for during the night, I dream vividly of lurid genius, primordial love, and enthralling adventure centered on us be friends.
Sigh no more, sigh no more…
I said I wished that I knew more. It’s true, but I’m sick and bored of wishing to be friends with everyone. Perhaps it’s a lack of effort on my part (and I swear, I will do my best to resolve it), but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to tear you apart, bit by bit, burn you to ashes, and finally feed you to some psychotic dog. God, life comes at you fast; all I really want is to have a good conversation with you. Perhaps we can write a new book.
By the way, if one asks you if you’d like to be in a room with them, and you say yes, it is rude to change your mind. Furthermore, it is especially distasteful if you can’t tell that person that you’re basically a coward, have lied, and really just don’t care a whole lot about them. Honesty is good, and I feel better for it, but I still and considering arson. Please don’t bore me.
And on to something far less serious, a bit funny, and seriously– much needed for everyone’s sanity. It’s perfect.
Ich schriebe heir nur auf Deutsch, weil ich üben muss! Lustig…
Weil ich keine Zeit habe, werde ich nur “Hallo” sagen. Ich hoffe, dass diese arbeiten wird. Wir werden sehen, order?