The constant barrage of emptiness and destruction of one’s own depraved mind does little to help ease the tension that consistently builds when that person is locked away with nothing to do but dwell on the twisted menagerie of bad memories that have taken place on a daily basis throughout the course of their selfish life.
The amount of stress builds slowly at first whilst the environment around them remains new and curious, but as they adopt a regular everyday, it quickly starts to build at a more rapid pace. The conditions in which they’re allowed to breed in only adding more fuel to the fire. The lit fuse heading towards a volatile conclusion that rarely if ever proves fatal for most emotions involved.
You watch with curious eyes as they begin to retract from everything, their concentration becoming more centered upon a small handful of things that should you attempt to keep them from, they become angry and quick to violent reactions.
Try as I might to keep my rage from peaking at multiple occasions, I can never quite keep it from tearing through the walls I’ve erected every now and then. The results catastrophic for those who have the unfortunate fate to be in my venomous grasp.
I struggle to assure them of my impending fits of anger but they tend to continually shrug them off as mere attempts at attention, somehow managing to become even angrier when my verbal attacks take place and they did little if nothing to premeditate with the proper expectations in accordance towards my legitimate claims. Doing little but making the entire situation worse betwixt an added layer of confusion and pride.
Hence how my interactions between myself and those who dare attempt visceral communications with me are kept to an absolute minimum. As my demented way of thinking matched with my rather colorful way of speaking it always end up sticking me in rather distasteful situations where I’m cast as the deceitful villain and the rest of my company take the part of village idiots armed with the proverbial pitchforks attentively aimed towards my throat.
And should I try and commit myself to civil conversation without the addition of my poisonous train of thought I’m damned by those who unsurprisingly enough find conversing with a mind like mine to be lacking and take the time to find anything of importance through more devious means and twist it into interesting knowledge that sparks controversy, henceforth giving the one behind its creation the entertainment it was looking for in the form of my crucifixion.
So I apologize that I have taken to laughing in your face because I have little time to deal with your mindless shenanigans. If you lack the common sense of a four year old and take pleasure in the pain of others you should promptly gouge your own eyes out take a look at the real monster at this table rather than force your image upon someone else.
May 1, 2013
FUCK ME DEAD HEAD. Episode Four of An Abstract Ideal.
Treat others with the same respect you wish to be treated with. A contemporary golden rule run through my head on a consistent basis during my more tumultuous youth. Out of all the accusations and half assed attempts to drug that which they could not aptly control, they still managed to imprint a message upon me.
One that I have tirelessly attempted to uphold since with a beautiful barrage of both skepticism and outright disbelief. Looked upon as just another self-righteous fool trying to carve a little piece of heaven out of the rot that festers within this unjustified world.
Either I am faced with double meaning questions trying to prove me nothing but a mere contradiction with bold words but little will, or I am looked upon as a crook trying to sell something. Never does it cross the minds of these people that I’ve simply been raised to respect what deserves respect and damn what deserves damnation.
Too used to pain is the average passerby these days. When not looking for quick shortcuts to get ahead they are looking at every person who casts a helping hand with an indignation that is undeserved or implied.
Trained are we to deceive and mistrust. Expectant are the hands that help us up to be followed by a slip of silver delving into the spinal cord and severing the remains of hope we had only just managed to cling upon.
Shunned are those few who still maintain an aptitude to accept the world for what it is and still attempt to make a difference. Quickly are the jealous to paint a picture to pervert the image of who the good really are. Burying them beneath a flood of lies and controversy spun from the thin fabrics of corruption and bad intentions.
To break a titan is the greatest joy to those who can’t compete. To rip open the chest of those who try to rise up and stomp upon the bleeding hearts that lie within. In the hopes of watching those they’ve so viciously attacked drown within the misinterpreted maelstrom that they bred from their own deeds.
Giving help to those in need is to eliminate the desperation that thrives within the broken’s shattered souls. To remove the fear that was so intimately imbedded to keep them a constant customer to the wicked’s decrepit vices. And by removing the need they remove a steady demand and aptly cripple the grip placed upon them by the corrupt.
Nobody likes to be bought out. And by removing a source of income you attract the angered attention of those who preyed upon the weak. And they’ll stomp the life out of you any way they can just to make sure you don’t cross them again.
One that I have tirelessly attempted to uphold since with a beautiful barrage of both skepticism and outright disbelief. Looked upon as just another self-righteous fool trying to carve a little piece of heaven out of the rot that festers within this unjustified world.
Either I am faced with double meaning questions trying to prove me nothing but a mere contradiction with bold words but little will, or I am looked upon as a crook trying to sell something. Never does it cross the minds of these people that I’ve simply been raised to respect what deserves respect and damn what deserves damnation.
Too used to pain is the average passerby these days. When not looking for quick shortcuts to get ahead they are looking at every person who casts a helping hand with an indignation that is undeserved or implied.
Trained are we to deceive and mistrust. Expectant are the hands that help us up to be followed by a slip of silver delving into the spinal cord and severing the remains of hope we had only just managed to cling upon.
Shunned are those few who still maintain an aptitude to accept the world for what it is and still attempt to make a difference. Quickly are the jealous to paint a picture to pervert the image of who the good really are. Burying them beneath a flood of lies and controversy spun from the thin fabrics of corruption and bad intentions.
To break a titan is the greatest joy to those who can’t compete. To rip open the chest of those who try to rise up and stomp upon the bleeding hearts that lie within. In the hopes of watching those they’ve so viciously attacked drown within the misinterpreted maelstrom that they bred from their own deeds.
Giving help to those in need is to eliminate the desperation that thrives within the broken’s shattered souls. To remove the fear that was so intimately imbedded to keep them a constant customer to the wicked’s decrepit vices. And by removing the need they remove a steady demand and aptly cripple the grip placed upon them by the corrupt.
Nobody likes to be bought out. And by removing a source of income you attract the angered attention of those who preyed upon the weak. And they’ll stomp the life out of you any way they can just to make sure you don’t cross them again.
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