As a somewhat solitarty person (as much as possible) and rather neurotic, i go thru phases that are difficult to deal with. Often times large doses of st. johns wort over a weeks time can cure the 'edge of rage' for a spell. Being somewhat masochist however, i tend to at times, let it fester, feeding it selected music, images and thoughts, riding the feeling that often times feels like im crawling out of my skin and splitting out of my mind. Occasionally I like to push myself, see how far i can go and stay control of that beast inside before it unleashes often times in a specticale of issuing hate and anger-filled brutal razor-sharp honesty.
I actually like being that 'beast' inside calling out peoples self-lies at times, though, it does produce a lot of heat throwen back at me. (eg: say a heavy girl at work says: oh i think i must be retaining water.. a look will cross my face as if to warn the person of what im about to say: retaining water? i think your just fat, you were fat before, you'll probably be fat after...either eat that twinkie you just stuffed in your mouth or not. your fat, so what, DEAL with it because i dont wanna hear about it!) it gets much worse the longer i let it go on unchecked.
Lately though my rage has turned towards the people who live on the floors above me and below me. i have that apartment right next to the stairs. When i was a kid,my home was layed out so that the children's bedrooms were on the top floor, my parents were below. My father used to seriously blow his top if we 'stomped' on 'his ceiling'. I learned to walk quietly, Ive become neurotic to reptitive sounds, Anyways..back to the staircase thing in my apartment.
I can not believe people walk that heavy up or down a flight of stairs. I have though of how to address this problem polietly, civilly while not revealing my identity. I've come to the conclusion that it can not be done. So things like 'invisable' tripwires & pounding nails up thru the stairs has come to mind, if thier loud at least i could enjoy thier screams of torture also.
While putting toothpaste on the brush this morning i had a thought. The opening for methadent toothpaste has two sections, one for the white & one for the blue. thru my hazy morning mind a memory returned to me that my toothpaste container reminded me of a certain type of glue (prehaps foxx brand epoxy?) anyways..
so im scrubbing my teeth and i think.. wow, the lather reminds me of.. The foaming pipesnake i just used on my bathtub drain a few days ago! ( this product works quite well btw). Same deal, two seperate sides of chemicls. Except when poured together become a poisionous lathering, bubbling mass. I started thinking about what that might do to a person if poured down thier delicate tender moist pink throats.
So what does this have to with the atomic weight of cobalt? Nothing actually.
So here i am, living in a front facing apartment, right next to the front doors, next to the stairs, next to the police station, on a busy busy road. Too many people, too many dumbshits crammed into the space around me.
I think going to work might relieve the pressure of living in what i have termed ' a fish bowl', only to be overwhelmed many days being the manager of assholes and dipshits and dealing with the same in our customer base.
Somedays when im feeling somewhat 'invisible' in my own world, my own space at home, i can sit for hours watching my Husband on his computer or in front of the TV. No one has hardley acknowledged my existence. unannounced, I get up and go into the bedroom or bathroom and 2 minutes later someones knocking on the door, wondering where i am. WTF people!?
Leave me the hell alone! I want to scream at the people who live around me or live near where i work, I dont fucking bother YOu, stop making me know You exist!
My dream is to one day live on a hobby farm, out in the country but not to far away from a sizeable city. Id want to have goats and sheep and such. Huge gardens. and enough space between me and the neighbors that when i feel like screaming hysterically at the sky i can do so, naked if i wanted, without some one pounding on the walls. course, out there, nobody would probably ever find the bodies of the foaming pipesnake victims there either...
Name:
Anonymous2010-10-15 15:43
I stay pissed off every fucking day of my life. I go though hell getting through the Forced Existence of what I came to accept. I hate myself! And if you have even one day that you feel good about yourself, then that's one day more than I've ever had!