Thursday, July 28, 2011
I feel a great upwelling within, culminating at my mouth, that demands a response. A silly sense of dignity to mark my displeasure, as though your offensive behavior was the question. I can’t stomach, stand, or take you in any position, I’m restless, with my thoughts of you which are you, inside me and all my attention keeps cataloging how much I fucking hate you. I gave you those powers, to turn every gesture or sound into a weapon. Don’t think you do anything. It’s me. All I want is for the way I’m looking at you to cause you pain. To have my ethereal hate be transformed to you. These words to cut the air, rough like the English. I want you to die in every single moment forever.