The world around me turns black and the anger burns in my gut.
Splashes of yellow, and puce. The shapes blur and all I can see if the object of my anger.
It churns inside me. Infecting my ribs and my womb with pus. It is an infection the eats me from the inside out. Tearing holes in my skin and shredding my soul into ribbons.
All so I can be right. Secure in my knowledge that I am right (self-righteous), secure in my knowledge that I am literally tearing out my own heart just so that I can be right.
Note:
I am three days behind, because Blogspot was down and I started to get judgmental about what I am writing. My writing takes little skill and requires more tutelage, as well as some fucking authenticity. All these things I write about are real for me, but are about being selfish. I am completely unobservant of the things going on around me. I have become complacent.
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