Killing me softly (I know it's not the same)

I’ll tell you when to put it out, just keep thrusting.

You don’t want to put an end to me? Damn, I should have known better, I still await the glorious day when I’ll finally be stricken down.

So, I am very…I don’t really know how to put it in one word, I feel like going all Hartigan on some creep’s face, Let’s just say that for a while now, my life has been killing me. I want to make my knuckles bleed against someone’s face. There have been a lot of events or rather; developing situations that make me want to just not exist to get free from the unsatisfied state I am. School is shit and sucks more than a ho, all of my classes go from indifferently lame to shit covered pain in the ass.

A while ago I stumbled upon a certain thing in a blog that, even though I should be used by now, made me so furious. Not only do I tend to become obsessed by details and care about what I think to be signs of stuff, I just can’t help it, In the same way that I like safekeeping small things to which I assign value, I sometimes become obsessed by what may seem like pointless comments. Now, If I consider that not everyone has a real intention behind every word the utter, which usually is my case, there are other people who do.

More to the same point, once I wrote an essay on love, it was for school and I remember almost nothing of what it said, but one of the things I do remember is a metaphor that said something like “love is like an auto filling vase, it can keep making more and more, but it’s not bottomless, and if you pull it out faster than it fills, love ends” I also kind of figured that it applies to more things, any affection related relationship is sort of bound to it.

Well it boils my blood when it happens.

I’m tired, tired of everything that is going on around me, and the lollipop effect is sort of driving me crazy, also the vasey syndrome (as I will call the thing I mentioned) comes as a result of my need of something to hold on to that saves me from…I don’t even know what it is, just not being satisfied with what is going on.

Maybe I ask too much from what my fucked situation gives me, but hell if I’ll stay and wait patiently as my life goes on killing me. I just have to wait a little more. And on the contrary of what it may seem like, I am not going to start acting wild and stuff, I can remain calm and composed and I don’t even have to force it, things will flow smoothly.

I believe there is more to me than people know, and I can use that as an advantage. The time of Reckoning is neat (t intended). Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to bleed some more.