I want to take the wind out of people's sails. They all sounds so pathetic, unoriginal. Little machines on play-back. I hate them. I can’t breath through one more friendly conversation with a person who has nothing below the surface, who is unable to see beauty in anything that does not decorate a home - who finds depth of character frustrating.
This one doesn’t even laugh at anything funny. She doesn’t have the capacity. I never got along all that well with girls anyway, so what am I doing here? She doesn’t know me, but she thinks she does. Always, with the thinking she knows me. I get a taste of her husband's life and it's not good. I am going to lose my fucking mind if I have one more ridiculous encounter, taking the most insignificant shit and raking it through, down to the smallest particle.
"I like the black and white with gold tones, but even better are the ones with the-"
“No, it’s not."
"What?"
"Not gold."
“Well, you know what I mean, it's like black and white but with gold under-"
“No it’s not……It’s brown.”
Brown, gold. What the fuck is the difference?
Fuck, fuck fuck FUCK am I going to lose my fucking mind. She is not just any old tyrant, she is a banal tyrant. The worst kind. I could take it if she was an interesting one. I did the tyrant thing growing up. At least then it was exploding with flavour - either wonderful or terrible. I can not take it anymore you mediocre tyrant. One more time. Do it one more time and I am going to explode.
I dare you.
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2 comments:
i love the rage. i think rage is the secret calling card for every person who is truly alive. that sounds ridiculous and melodramatic. but what's more dramatic than rage?
fuck no it's not ridiculous and melodramatic. it's life. i, too, like this entry. finally, venom. it's these little things that grind us down to powder, these fucking conversation treadmills, as i call them.
they're all over. they're plants, designed to pulverize your soul little by little.
i fight these bastards every day. it's a delicate business, though. especially if you have a family and children who thrive on social contact. you must force yourself to take a little bit of the bullshit, otherwise your kid will end up warped. she will anyway (genetics), but it won't be at my hand.
amp
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